#kylian mbappe gifs

[haartemis]

BIG EGO | Kylian Mbappé

pairing: kylian mbappe x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

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

warnings: smut!!! its all smut

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

you know kylian better than anyone else.

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

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

not kylian, though.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

the audacity.

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

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

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

“nothing” you say, a little too quickly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you break the kiss. “jealous?”

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

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

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

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

“such a huge ego” you tease.

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

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

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

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

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

kylian groans, his head tipping back. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you know he knows you mean it.

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

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

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

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

“hmm?”

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

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

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

you both burst out laughing. 

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

[spidybaby]

Double Face

Summary: Kylian acts different to you when other people are around.

Warnings: cursing, angst, name calling, gaslighting.

A/N: Happy Monday, everyone! Love you all ❤️ I've been away from tumblr and I really missed you and writing. Hope you all are fine 🤍

Turn around." He orders, making you turn to where he is. "I like that outfit." He smiles.

You smile back to him. Looking back again at your reflection to take a last look of yourself. You move to order the things you moved.

"I'm thinking about ordering some wine." He says, kissing the side of your head. "What do you think?"

You nod your head, smiling at him over the reflection of the mirror. Kylian smiles, finishing with the last details of his outfit.

You two take your time, you did your makeup, and he prepared his hair. When you finished, you called him.

"Ready to go?" You ask him, smiling from downstairs.

"Oui, madame." He smiles, walking downstairs to meet you. "A kiss?" You giggle, giving him a kiss. "Your first night in Madrid, I'm so happy." He hugs you tightly, kissing your shoulder.

Kylian and you have been together since the end of 2022. You met when you got hired at Paris Saint Germain as a sports reporter.

You even travel with the French National Team to the World Cup. Kylian needed you there not as a part of the team but as his partner.

He invited you to live with him in Madrid. You told him that you weren't so sure. You wanted to be able to work on the media as a reporter.

He got you a job as a La Liga reporter. You were beginning during the Valladolid vs. Villarreal game. You were so nervous because even tho you speak Spanish, you feel nervous about fucking things up.

"I'm happy too." You hug him. "Let's hurry, I don't want us to lose the reservation." You say, grabbing your bag from the table next to the stairs.

Kylian and you got to the restaurant. He loved the small, private places in Madrid. After all, he didn't want paparazzi or crazy fans to disturb your peace.

You were used to paparazzi and to crazy fans, even when people weren't as used to the two of you as you wanted.

You had to endure the rumors, the critics, the name calling, the people on the internet making fun of you.

It wasn't as easy as you wanted it to be. Being with someone as big as him was a problem. He was focused on football and making sure his team was good, that sometimes he forgot that he had a life outside the field.

When you took the job in Madrid, you made sure that Kylian and you were on the same page about life.

You weren't a child anymore, and the in and out type of relationships weren't your thing anymore. You want security, someone who's ready to take the next step if he needs to.

"I'm nervous about starting tomorrow." You confess to him.

"Why?' He asks, frowning. "Your second language is Spanish. You speak it so well and you have so much experience as a reporter."

"Thank you," you say, grabbing his hand. "I'm just feeling insecure, and I think being nervous isn't helping."

"You did an amazing job at the World Cup, and let me remind you that PSG hired you because of how good you were with the interviews and with the players during your internship."

You smile at him. Getting closer to kiss him. "I have to travel to Valladolid." You smile. "I'm happy about it."

The rest of the dinner was good, you two changed the topic to different ones. It was nice to be back with him and not having to see him over a screen.

When you are back home, you ask him for help with your luggage. "Heels or no heels?" You show him the shoes. "And if yes, pumps or stilettos?"

"Is both an option?" He asks, grabbing a stiletto. "I like this one, tho."

yourusermame

Liked by k.mbappe, laliga and 98,856 others

yourusermame one down and a lot to go.

laliga our new favorite reporter

ethanmbappe need an exclusive? 👀

yourusermame open dms croissant boy

km9lover not her calling him croissant boy 😭😭😭

You walk over the big tunnel of the stadium. You and the cameraman were talking about the sound.

"Mister Gonzalez asked for you to interview one of the madrid guys." He says, checking his texts.

"I'll try to get Jude." You say, making him nod.

The game was about to finish, so you needed to be quickly and try to interview Jude. Since he was the one who scored two goals, you need to be quicker than others.

When you made it to the field, you had two minutes left of the extra time the referee gave. You check the audio, and you check your reflection on your phone screen.

The stadium erupts in happiness as the Real Madrid wins. You smile at how the team runs to the field.

You noticed the smile Kylian has. After all the media says about him, you are happy that he has peace and happiness with this win.

"Y/n, here comes Jude."

You nod, standing to the side of the entrance. Jude smiles at you, stopping when you try to talk to him.

"Jude, can you give us an interview? please." You smile at him.

He nods, smiling and walking with you to where the camera is. You ask if the cameraman is ready.

You began interviewing him. Jude is so happy about his two goals, he dedicates them to his parents.

"Thank you, Jude." You smile.

He walks to another group of reporters who wants to interview him. You notice how other players are still on the field.

You interview a player from Barcelona. You feel tired but have to keep a smile on your face for the sake of the interviews.

You go back to the tunnel, saying your goodbye to your team. You text Kylian, asking him if he wants you to wait for him.

He asks you to wait for him outside in the corridor. You wait there, sitting on a bench that's there.

You noticed some players leave, one of them being Jude. "Hey there Missis Reporter." He smiles at you.

"Hi Jude," You stand up to talk to him. "Thank you for the interview. My boss was happy."

"No problem." He giggles. "What are you doing here?" He asks. "Do you need a ride? I can call you an Uber."

You smile at him. You were about to answer when you hear Kylian's voice. "Jude, you forgot this."

He gives Jude a folder of things. Congratulating him for the goals. Jude smiles at him, shy at all the congratulations he's receiving.

"Hey, ready to go?" He asks you. Making you nod.

"Oh, you now her!" He smiles at the two of you. "How do you know each other?"

You were about to answer, but Kylian does it first.

"She was part of the media team at Paris Saint Germain." He says.

You nod, not thinking much of it. "And now I'm here at La Liga."

"That's amazing. Welcome to Madrid." He smiles. "Thank you, Mate. See you around"

You both say goodbye. You two walk to where the cars are. You try to grab Kylian's hand, but he's quicker and grabs his phone.

"Want some sushi?" He asks, showing you on his phone the menu of a restaurant.

"Oui oui, monsieur." You say, intertwining your arm with his. "Maybe some dumplings too." You smile at him.

You enter Kylian's house. You have the groceries you just got. You walk to the kitchen, finding Kylian there.

"Hi." You say.

Your greetings make him turn. He smiles, moving from the wooden stool to get to you. He kisses your cheek.

"I got you all the ingredients to make your shakes in the morning." You say happily.

"You are the best." He says, kissing the top of your nose. "Let's me help you organize."

You two place the groceries while joking around. You love these moments with him. It makes you feel like falling in love again.

"Some friends are coming tonight." He says. "I wanted to ask if you can make us something for dinner."

"Mhm," you say. "Whatever you want, amour."

He smiles, showing you a recipe that he wants you to prepare. You got all the ingredients ready while he was preparing himself.

You prepared enough food for all his friends. Even making time to prepare something for them to have as a dessert.

You heard the doorbell, the maid Kylian hired to help around the house open the door. You hear a very known voice.

"Hola, can I come in?" Camavinga asks.

"Hola, Edu." You say, hugging him. "I missed you around."

"Missed you too. The National Break was hell without you there. The new reporter didn't even knew what to do."

You two make conversation. The doorbell rang again. This time, it was Vini and Jude. They were talking about some match they saw on tv.

You greet Vini while Eduardo greets Jude. You and Vini met before Kylian came to Madrid. They were friends, so he knew you.

"Take a seat in the living room, I'll get some drinks for you." You smile at them. "Kylian is getting ready. He'll be here soon."

They all nod, doing what you told them to do. You serve some drinks, get some snacks on the bowls, and take it to where they are.

Kylian joins them not that long after. They were going to see an NBA game. You didn't wanted to interrupt, so you stayed on the side.

You finish the meal while they are enjoying the game. You were so into the video you are watching that you don't notice someone entering the kitchen until that person clears their throat.

"Hello, interview girl." Jude says.

"Hello, Mister Jude Bellingham." You giggle. "Do you need anything?"

"Can I get more juice?" He asks.

You nod, grabbing his cup and serving him more liquid.

"I thought you were just Kylian's friend." He confess. "Since he introduces you as an ex coworker."

"Well, we don't shout out to the world that we are a couple." You chuckle, passing him his drink.

He nods, understanding. "Isn't it weird to interview him?"

You were about to answer when Kylian entered the kitchen asking you a question. "Amour, can you serve the food?"

You nod at him. Smiling at Jude and excusing yourself to grab the plates that Kylian handed you.

Kylian tells Jude to go sit with the others. He waits for Jude to be out off the kitchen to turn to you.

"Smells so good." He says, getting closer and kissing your lips. "I bet it tastes as good as it looks."

"I hope so." You laugh.

He helps you with taking the plates. Since they were only four people, the two of you were enough to take them out.

"I've been craving the food since I step on this house." Vini says, laughing. "It looks amazing too."

Eduardo and Jude laughed at him. Kylian helps with passing the rest of the things.

"Are you eating with us, Y/n?" Camavinga asks.

"She won't." Kylian says. "She must be tired."

You turn to him, watching him with a confused look on your face. He ignored your eyes.

"Oh, don't be silly, come eat with us." Jude says. "I don't think you only cooked for us and didn't leave a plate for yourself."

"Like I said." Kylian says. "She's tired."

The room got quiet. You look at Kylian with a neutral expression. His response seems agressive.

You smile at them. "I'll bring you guys more drinks." You say after a few moments, moving back to the kitchen.

You took a deep breath, trying to put your best smile. You walk back, the boys are talking back again.

Camavinga looks at you and smiles, posing his hand on your arm, he squish your arm as a way of asking if you were okay.

You nod, understanding what he was trying to do. You grab his arm and squish it in return.

"I'll be upstairs, I'm kind of tired, as Kylian says." You wave them a goodbye.

You can help but notice the face of the boys. Kylian was looking at his phone. He didn't even lift his head or said thank you to you like the others.

You walk upstairs, the feeling of shame grows with every step you take. You try to excuse the behavior by saying it's about the stress he's feeling.

But that wasn't the first time it happened. You just haven't noticed it.

"He's a World Cup champion, and she's a sports reporter who got her job because she's with him." You read what the magazine says.

Melissa scuffs, rolling her eyes at the words that are coming out of your mouth. She can't believe someone took the time to write that and print it for other people to read.

"She's trying to become the new Sara." You say, laughing a little. "Well, I'm not trying to become Georgina but Sara." You laugh.

"I don't know which one is better." Melissa laughs with you, taking the magazine in her hands. "At least they printed a good picture of you."

"That's why I'm forgiving them." You joke. "Yes, they wrote that I'm a gold digger who's using my boyfriend's influence to work in Spain sports media, but on the pictures, I look amazing."

You two laugh, Melissa threw the magazine to the trash as you two walk back inside. You were enjoying a nice hot chocolate.

She prepared two snacks for you to eat while you sit on the couch and talk about life updates you have.

"When are you leaving?"

"I have to cover the Atletico de Madrid game in four hours." You say, checking the time. "And I have to be there two hours before, so in about twenty minutes."

You pick the things with her help. You excuse yourself, going to the room and picking your outfit before taking a shower.

You try to style yourself quickly, you add some natural makeup. It was winter, so you like to use a light blush.

You finish with yourself, walking downstairs and finding Melissa talking with her daughter. "Oh, Lana, you are awake!" You say happily.

She nods at you. Hiding behind her mom, making you and Melissa laugh. "Go before traffic gets worse."

You say your goodbyes to them. Hurrying to the stadium, thankfully, you got a little bit earlier than you needed.

You meet your team, helping them with preparing everything for the pre of the game. You place your mic and your earpiece.

"Mike, I'll go to the bathroom." You say, leaving your things on the side, where your things and the team things are.

You walk over the corridors, saying hi to some of the other news workers. You take your time, noticing how the players are taking theirs.

When you are back, you notice this other reporter. You roll your eyes at the presence of her. She's a bother, and you don't like her.

"I'm back." You say, playing the earpiece and your mic back in place. You check your watch. "Fifteen to get started." You say to them.

You check your makeup one last time, applying more gloss to your lips. You check if your teeth were clean from anything.

"So, did you read what Hola Magazine wrote about you?" She asks.

Your sigh, turning to her with a fake lip smile. "I didn't," you lie. "Why? What did they say?"

"Nothing, just some facts here and there."

You lift your eyebrow, facts?

You were about to answer her, but you shut your mouth. It's better that way. You know she only wants you to react.

They gave you the sign, and you two began talking to the camera. You can separate your personal life from your work life.

You don't care if Alessandra, the reporter, or any other person tells you something about you, you don't mind it.

Of course it made you feel weird. You wouldn't talk about someone the way they talk about you, or even create the rumors people create about you.

You finish with the segment, grabbing your stuff quickly and walking to the corner. You have to write down every possible thing that can help you to interview the players.

To your bad luck, Alessandra was seated next to you. You were hoping for her to be sent to the other side of the field.

You tried your best to ignore her. You don't feel like engaging in a conversation. You don't want to be her friend, and she doesn't want to be yours.

You concentrate on the game in front of you. Patiently waiting for something to happen.

You can't help but be distracted with your phone. Kylian was home, and he was trying to fond something.

You were trying to be quick and explain to him where you put that thing he's looking for. Quickly returning your attention to the game.

"Did you notice that De Paul has his girlfriend here?" She asks you. Pointing at the players' balcony. "She's an influencer."

You scan everybody at the balcony, not really being able to distinguish her away from the others.

"That's cute." You say, not giving too much attention.

"Have you ever been to Kylians' games?"

You nod, looking at the field. "Many."

She scuffs. "I mean, of course you have." She says, funny tone. "But not as a psg reporter, an fff social media person or a la liga reporter, but as his girlfriend."

You then think that you haven't been to any of his games as a girlfriend. You've been there, of course, but you were also working outside the field.

"I have." You lie. "Why?"

"Just curious." She shrugged. "Don't you love when players show off their girlfriends? It's so cute."

You nod, taking notes of an assist that Antoine did. You then look at her and nod again, you don't want to seem rude, even when you want to be.

"I never seen Kylian done that with you." She says, smirking. "If I recall, he has never mentioned you."

You knew that this was coming. Every time you guys had a kind of nice conversation, she had to be shady and threw you a comment about your private life.

"Why would he?" You ask, eyebrow raised. "His private life is only his."

"Oh, I know." She says, pressing a hand to her chest. "I just feel for you. I can't imagine being hide in so cleared light."

You shake your head no. "I'm not hidden."

"I mean, if you say so." She chuckles. "But if I'm honest, I wouldn't be surprised if next season you are not with us anymore."

You were about to answer her, but the referee marked the end of the first half. You excuse yourself, you place the notebook down, grab your bag and walking to the tunnel before the players.

You walk into the bathroom, locking yourself in one. You breathe a few times, trying to calm the urge to drag her by the hair.

You walk out, finding other reporters. You wash your hands and say a quick hi and goodbye to them. You grab your phone, texting Kylian to ask him if he found what he wanted.

He texted you a picture of him with a thumbs up. You reply with a picture of the corridor.

You try your best to keep calm. You don't want to make a scene by telling her to shut up or to mind her business.

You won't fall for that.

You can't help but not be able to concentrate the whole game. Rodrigo De Paul scored a goal, making a hand signal for his new girlfriend.

Something inside of you is making you feel some type of way.

As much as you act as if you are okay with the whole < private but not secret > kind of relationship Kylian wants.

You want to be able to go out and have fun with him at clubs and not be locked in the vip room away from the other people at the club.

You wanted to be able to go to the movies and not have to rent the movie or a whole cinema room for the two of you.

Or maybe be able to not feel like you are doing something wrong when you post about him on your Instagram stories.

You also know that being with him meant not doing a lot of "normal" things that common people do on a daily basis.

Or normal couples, like going to the park to spend a quiet time, you can't go to the mall and just shop around or have a meal without having dozens of people and paparazzi outside, waiting for him.

Sometimes you just want to be able to act like a normal couple and to be seen as something more than just the girl he's hiding.

Not the first time people called you that.

Not the first time people acted as if you were a gold digger who's about to baby trap him into giving you his fortune.

You have accepted that people are going to tell you that.

What you can't seem to accept is that he prefers for you to endorse the comments, hate, and critics over him issuing a statement for people to leave you alone and to stop the comments.

You make yourself believe that is because he's trying to show that others have no power over his private life.

But he has defended different things about that same private life.

Why can't he defend you like that?

You can barely concentrate during the interviews, making general questions instead of the ones you wrote on your notes.

Some of your teammates asked you if you were okay, worried about you looking so down. You blame it on probably coming with a cold.

Your boss told you that you could skip the next game. He didn't want you to work sick and coming with something worse than the cold.

You checked and noticed that the next game you were scheduled for was a Real Sociedad game in five days. This means that you are able to watch the Real Madrid game.

You feel happy, you weren't working and your boyfriend was playing. You will finally be able to see him play as his girlfriend and not as the reporter in the corner of the field.

You can't wait!

You enter your home happy and excited to share the news with Kylian. You left your bag and notebook in the entrance as you walk upstairs to find him.

Melissa and lana were back in Paris, meaning that the only person in the house apart from your boyfriend was Bryce.

"Bonjour!" You say, smiling at him.

He was on his phone, putting it aside when you walked inside. "Bonjour, amour." He says, opening his arms to you.

You close the door behind you and run to the bed. You jump carefully into his arms. "I missed you."

He chuckles, kissing your cheeks. "You saw me a few hours ago."

"I know." You say dramatically, sighing. "But I missed you all day long."

He grabs the back of your neck, bringing you closer. His lips crashed with yours, starting a kiss.

You let it happen for a while, relaxing into his arms. You almost forget about the news you want to share with him.

"Stop." You say between kisses. "I have to tell you something."

"Can it wait?" He asks before going back to your lips.

You shake your head no, "it's good news." You smile, placing your hands on each side of his head and lifting yourself. Now you are siting on top of him.

He places his hands behind his head. "Okay, go on." He says with a smirk on his face.

"My boss gave me good news." You start.

"You are getting promoted?" He asks, teasing you.

"No, I don't think we can get promoted here." You say. "Okay, so the news are-"

"You are covering the next clásico?"

"Well." You think for a second. "They don't even think about the next clásico yet. But, I wanted to say-"

"I'm thinking about the next clásico." He says, almost laughing at your desperation.

He knows that you love to say the good news quickly, so he loves to tease you and interrupt you as much as he can with questions.

"Kylian! Let me spit it out."

"Oh, pardon." He chuckles. "I just thought you like to swallow."

You can't help but blush. "I'm not reacting to that." You say. "I-"

"Oh, amour." He laughs. "Those rosy cheeks already did." He takes on hand from behind his head to your face, squishing your cheeks.

You take his hand into yours. "Let me finish!" You whine. He laughs and nods. "My boss gave me a few days off, meaning I can come to your next game!"

You don't seem to catch it, but his smile fades a little. "Oh, really?"

"Si!" You say. "Aren't you happy?" You ask.

He nods, a lip smile on his face. "I just thought that you might want to relax. You know how tiring games are."

You shake your head no. "I can take it." You say, leaning down to give him a kiss. "I want to see my champ play." You smile at him.

"Are you sure?"

You think he's just teasing you, not giving it mind that deep down, he hopes that you say that he's right and that you'll stay home.

"I mean, I'll need a jersey because I don't know where mine is, but other than that, yes."

He sighs. "I'll get you one tomorrow, I'll also ask for them to give me another ticket."

The tone was flat, not a single drop of excitement. You catch a little bit of that.

"You okay?" You ask, frowning a little.

He nods. "Want me to make you a sandwich?" He asks, changing the subject.

"Mmm, with extra cheese?" You ask.

"With extra love, bébé." He says, using one arm to lift himself with you still in top of him. "Love you."

"I love you more." You kiss him. "Very very much." You smile.

yourusername

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yourusername 🤍

View all 35,586 comments

k.mbappe 🤍

ethanmbappe Peux-tu répondre à mon texte ? 🙄

kylianwifee finally some wag conent related

km9xvini7 I know 😭 I hope she keeps posting like this

"Do you like it?" You ask him, waiting patiently for his answer.

He shakes his head. "Honestly. No, I don't." He says. Your smile drops, and you are about to get worried, but the way his lips curve in a smile. "I love it."

You smile, giving him a hug. "I made it with so much love." You say, grabbing his face and giving him a kiss.

"You are going to make me fat, a very loved fat footballer." He laughs, pecking your lips. "Did you enjoy the game?" He asks, kissing your forehead.

"I did." You nod, hugging him tighter. "You did amazing, champ." You smile. "I love seeing you play."

You let Kylian finish the food, still hugging him. You let him take his time with the food, and you yourself take some time to carefully caress his face.

You are so I'm love with that man.

"You are an amazing chef." He smiles, his nose bumping yours. "Want to go upstairs and watch your show?" He asks.

You nod, smiling like crazy.

"You have that early meeting tomorrow?"

"Noup, tomorrow is still free." You smile, grabbing the plate and walking to the sink, leaving the plate there. "Why?"

He hugs you from behing, his lips kissing behind your ear. "I just want to spend some time with you?"

yourusername

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yourusername another day 😋

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meliissagateau get me a signed jersey

yourusername 🤨🤨🤨

ethanmbappe échauffe-toi, tu es le prochain

yourusername tais-toi, croissant

kykswifu9 I need her and kylian to post something together 😭❤️

jude5vini7 I think kylian mentioned before that he wants to keep his relationship away from the media because of how some fans criticize other players' girlfriends or wives

madridgirl23 @jude5vini7 I mean it makes sense 🤷🏻‍♀️ look at how people react to other players posting their partners, better be safe

You walked back inside the house, it was still early. You had an early game, and you are able to rest before dinner.

"Ky! Are you home?" You ask, leaving your belongings on the table next to the door.

You take the phone out of your purse, you notice that there was no text from Kylian other than the one where he asked you something.

You call him, trying to see if he was maybe out with a friend or up in the bedroom. You got into voice mail, deciding to ring him another time.

You walk into the kitchen, hungry for something sweet. You find the lady who helps you with the cleaning there.

"Hi!" You say to her. "You are here late. Is everything okay?"

She nods. "I was waiting for you." She answers.

"You are so sweet for waiting," you smile at her. "Do you happen to know where Kylian is?"

She nods again. "He left with Mister Tchaga to maybe somewhere important because he was very elegant dressed."

You frown a little bit, he never talked about any gala or anything like that, he even asked you if you wanted take out for dinner earlier in the morning. Maybe she was confused and they went to a party or something last minute.

"Mister Mbappe told his friend that you didn't feel well. Even asked me to wait for you to see if you feel sick when you return from work."

You feel more confused than before. Why would he lie about you? If he thinks that you are not well, maybe he should have asked you directly.

"If you want me to, I can prepare you something." She offers. "I know some remedies my mother used to give my brothers and me. Very effective."

You smile at her. "Gracias, I'll see how my night goes, and if I still feel sick in the morning, I'll let you know."

She nods, saying goodbye to you. You excuse yourself and walk upstairs. You open the door to your shared room and notice two suits.

One was thrown in the bed, and the other one was on the chair next to your bed. You can't help the confusing thoughts.

Did he mention the event?

Did you forget about it?

Did you say no?

You open X, trying to see if you can find any info about what this. It didn't take you that much work because as soon as the app loads, you find a tweet of a fan page.

It was a football gala for The Best. They were getting an invitation because they were getting some kind of awards there and also on the field.

Most of the players, if not all of the ones who have a partner, brought their partner. They were all posing for the cameras.

You feel hurt.

Kylian didn't even care about asking you.

Yes, you had work, but asking wouldn't take more than a few seconds. Plus, the game was at two pm. You stayed more than you should in the stadium because you were free.

If he asked you about it, you could have asked someone to cover for you or left right after the game.

You try to ignore the crying sensation. You need to talk about it with him. Maybe it was a big misunderstanding. Maybe you are exaggerating.

You take a shower, washing the stress you are feeling away. The hot water makes you relax, clear your mind from the names you want to call Kylian.

You do your normal routine. You want to be clean for bed, even tho there was still a long wait before bed, you wanted to rest.

You turn on your favorite show, watching some episodes. But you ended up disassociating into your own thoughts.

You took a little nap, trying to calm your mind from the noise. As people say, a good nap can fix everything.

You wake up, noticing the sun wasn't there anymore, you check your phone and noticed you have a few texts, it was the chauffeur. He sent you a few texts letting you know that he picked food for you per Kylian's request.

You thank him. Leaving the comfort of your sheets and walking downstairs to pick it up. You check the time on your phone 8:17 pm.

You overslept, you originally wanted an hour nap or so, but you don't have to be mad at the rest cause it felt amazing.

You open the bag, checking that it has your favorite food inside, you may be mad at Kylian, but he kind of won the privilege of not getting 1 of the 20 names you have ready for him.

You decide to eat in the kitchen, not wanting to get your sheets dirty. You seat on the big table he picked for the house.

Maybe it's your anger, maybe it's the disappointment, maybe it's just the fact that you now notice things.

But one thing you never noticed was how alone you were in that big cold house.

You had to eat alone most of the times, you have to wake up alone most of the days, you have to sleep alone because he was out or late training in the gym.

You never really made mind of how much it bothered you. Maybe because as you said "it's because he's not a normal person."

You finish the food, taking the containers to the trash. You wash the fork and knife you used, wanting to leave the kitchen as clean as it was before.

You were drying your hands when you hear the front door. You stayed quiet, not wanting to face him when you know Bryce was with him.

They talk a little bit, you can even hear Bryce ask if he knows how you feel.

Mad.

That's how you feel.

You hear them move upstairs, you wait a little bit more, wanting for Bryce to get into the guest room.

When you hear both door closing it when you know you have to get upstairs. You open the door, watching him get out of the closet.

"Hey!" He smiles. "I was looking for you."

You humm, walking to the bathroom and brushing your teeth. You take a few breathes before walking back to the room and get into the covers.

You wait for him to finish his routine. He was happy, you can tell ny the big smile on his face and how he was humming a song.

Before he could reach the sheets with his hand, you talk.

"How was the gala?" You ask, a very monotone voice.

"Amazing, very simple but kind of long." He answers as if nothing is wrong. "How was the game?"

"Why did you tell Bryce that I was sick?" You ask, not answering his question. "Not only I'm not sick but also I'm very mad at the fact that you lied!"

You try to keep your composure. You don't want to yell, you don't want to fight, you just want an explanation.

He stayed quiet, looking at you with a blank expression on his face.

"You are suddenly voiceless?" You ask. "You never told me about any gala, I had to find out via social media what it was." You continue.

"I did." He says.

"Don't." You say with a very stern tone. "You didn't, and you know it."

"I did." He repeats. "You probably didn't pay attention."

"Okay, when did you tell me?" You ask him, trying to prove a point.

"Why are you acting like this?" He asks, rolling his eyes. "I had an amazing day, can you drop it?"

"No, I can't. When did you asked me?"

He hides his face into his hands. "God, you can be annoying." He shout. "Probably like two weeks ago."

"Lies!" You shout back. "I was in Sevilla."

"Then when you came back!"

"You were in Valencia." You say. "You didn't tell me. And that doesn't even matter, what matter here is that you could've told me < Hey, y/n I forgot to tell you about this event, sorry about it> But no, you lie to me and you told your friends and even our maid that I was sick!"

He doesn't answer.

"Why?" You ask. "Why are you doing this?"

He shrug, not putting a little bit of care into it.

"Have you ever noticed that you never took me to any of your galas?" You ask, the sadness in your voice is evident. "Kylian, what is wrong? Talk to me!"

He rolls his eyes again, grabbing the pillow. He was trying to get out of the situation by leaving the room.

"Where are you going?" You ask, throwing the sheets off of you. "You are not leaving until we are done with this conversation, sir." You warn him.

You take the pillow away out of his hands. "Stop that." He says.

"I will, once you and I have a talk." You say, throwing the pillow back on the bed. "I can't keep pretending that everything is fine."

"You don't have to!" He yells. "We are fine."

"How are we fine?" You yell back, not caring about his friend or anything else. "Kylian, you are doing this on purpose."

"You are crazy." He says, walking into the bathroom. He slams the door, leaving you alone. "You are losing your mind!" He yells again.

You try to calm down, you need to have a serious conversation with him, and screaming won't get you to it.

You wait for him to get out of the bathroom. When he sees that you are not giving up, he groans.

"Can you not?" He asks. "You ruined my night."

The way his voice soundes so dark makes you shiver. He didn't even care that what he's doing is hurting you.

"I can say the same thing to you." You say with the same tone. "We can resolve this if you just tell me what the fuck is going on!"

"What do you want me to say?" He asks.

You shake your head. "The truth!"

"I haven't even noticed that you never came to one of my galas, maybe because you are not the center of my focus and attention."

That hurts.

"Okay," you nod. "I just want to know if this is going to continue, because I'm honestly so tired of this shit."

He shakes his head. "I don't know, are you going to keep acting this way?"

"Why am I being blamed?" You ask, angry at his attitude. "Kylian, you are the one who wanted this relationship to be off camera. Yes, I agreed. But I never agreed to being toss aside like if I'm not worth a shit."

You feel your eyes getting teary, you don't want him to say that you are creating a drama or anything. So you clean them quickly.

"I love you," you say to him. "Don't you love me like I do?"

He stays quiet, letting the minutes pass.

You never thought the silence can become so loud to the point that it feels like screams. You understood so much with that passive agressive action.

"Are you ashamed of me?" You ask. "I mean, you meet me as a reporter and you asked me to be your girlfriend when I was working as a reporter. So maybe I'm lost, but I don't get when we got to this point."

"I asked you to leave your work and come with me to Madrid." He says. "But you told me that you wanted to keep working on the media and even suggested a long distance relationship."

"Because I love my job, Kylian." You answer. "Is that a problem? You knew that I wasn't someone who was going to sit around and wait for you to come home with a fresh cooked meal and some fresh ironed clothes."

"Couldn't you just sacrifice something for me?" He asks. "I mean, you have everything here! You have a maid, look at this house and you don't even need to pay anything, not a single bill."

"So you wanted me to just leave my work and become your stay at home girlfriend?" You ask. "Would that be better? Would you be prouder of me?"

"Maybe" He says. The tone of honesty is what hurted the most.

"I worked my ass off since college to get where I am." You began. "Yes, you got me this job, and thank you for that. But if the price I have to pay is that you feel like I'm not good enough, then maybe I do have to change!" You say.

He nods, walking over to you. "I promise you that everything will be worth it." He says, smiling at your quick comprehension. "I'll give you everything you want."

You take a few steps back. "I don't think you understand." You say.

"quoi?"He asks, confused.

"Kylian, I'm not changing my job." You chuckle.

Maybe it was the pain turning into a laughing situation. Maybe it was a coping mechanism.

"Then what are you changing?" He asks, still confused.

"You." You say, smiling a little. "We are done."

[u6is]

im the release, you the dopamine

summary: the exhaustion of the day melted away, replaced by a burning need to connect, to reaffirm the bond that had been stretched thin by their separate ambitions.

warning/s: thigh riding, dirty talk

— kylian mbappé x reader: smut

You woke up with a start, the digital clock on the bedside table casting a stark, blue light across the room, reading 2:47 AM. The usual comforting weight of Kylian's arm across your waist was gone, and the space beside you felt cold and empty.

In the last few weeks, Kylian's football career had taken off like a rocket. Practices had turned into marathons, games into weekends spent apart, and training sessions into solitary nights for you, filled with the echo of his laughter and the distant thud of a soccer ball against a wall.

You were equally engrossed in your own world of deadlines and conference calls, your work laptop a permanent fixture on the nightstand.

Last night, all you could think about was sleeping, not even a cuddle because you were both too tired.

Your body had simply collapsed onto the bed at the end of a long day, like rag doll thrown haphazardly into a box. The sweet exhaustion that came from pushing yourself to the brink of what you thought was possible had turned your intimate sanctuary into a battleground of competing schedules and unspoken worries. You had fallen asleep in your work clothes, the warmth of the bed the only comfort you had allowed yourself, too exhausted to even muster the energy for a goodnight kiss from the man lying next to you.

Now, in the silent embrace of the dark, you felt the full weight of his absence.

It wasn't just the coldness of the unoccupied space beside you that made you miss him. It was the quiet moments between breaths, the little adjustments of his body against yours that signaled his presence even in his deepest sleep. It was the comforting throb of his heartbeat, the steady rhythm that lulled you into a sense of belonging.

You reached out a tentative hand to touch the pillow where he should have been, but it was as flat and lifeless as the rest of the bed. The silence was deafening, amplifying every tick of the clock and the distant hum of the city outside.

You ached for him, a deep, unrelenting ache that no distance could soothe.

With a sigh, you pushed back the covers and swung your legs over the side of the bed. The floor was cool against your feet as you padded into the bathroom, the tiles a stark contrast to the warmth you'd just left. You flicked on the light and squinted in the sudden glare. In the mirror, your reflection was a blur of shadows and exhaustion. You turned away, not quite ready to face the reality of your solitude.

Your work clothes were a crumpled mess on the floor, a testament to the hastiness of your collapse. You reached into the closet and pulled out your favorite pair of pajamas, the soft fabric a gentle whisper against your skin as you changed.

At this hour of the night, you know exactly where to find him.

There are only two rooms Kylian truly favors in his house: the bedroom, where his PlayStation resides, and the gym.

You knew Kylian was in the gym, the room he retreated to when the pressure of his burgeoning career became too much. It was his sanctuary, where he could sweat out his frustrations.

The gym door was slightly ajar, and a sliver of light spilt into the darkened corridor. The closer you got, the more you could hear the muffled sounds of his laboured breathing.

There you saw him, lifting weights while sitting on the bench, his legs spread apart for balance. His shorts rode low on his hips, leaving his toned abs and the top of his muscular thighs on full display. His chest was heaving with the effort, the muscles in his arms straining as he pushed the barbell upward, the cords of his neck standing out with the exertion. His eyes were closed, and beads of sweat glistened on his bare skin, tracing rivulets down the valleys of his chest and stomach. His face was a mask of concentration, a silent battle being waged between mind and body.

You just stand there, simply appreciating his existence. The intimacy of the moment was palpable, and you felt a surge of affection for him, for his dedication, his passion, his drive.

As if sensing your presence, Kylian opened his eyes. They searched the room, the intensity of his gaze softening when it found you in the doorway. He offered you a tired but genuine smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a greeting that was more heartfelt than any spoken word. It was the kind of smile that could melt away the stress of the day, the kind that made you feel seen and understood without a single syllable exchanged.

You made your way to him, his arms extending, welcoming you into the warmth of his embrace. He gently set down the barbell, the clank of metal against metal a stark contrast to the quietude of the room.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer as he sat while you stood in front of him. His lips brushed against your stomach, placing soft kisses there before looking up at you. You cupped his face gently with your hands, gazing down at him with love reflecting in your eyes, a love that matched his own. Holding your gaze, he kissed your stomach again, making you bite your lip and smile tenderly.

"I missed you today," you whispered, your voice barely rising above the quiet rhythm of his breathing.

Kylian’s eyes softened as they searched yours, his smile turning tender.

"Je voulais faire l'amour avec toi hier soir," (I wanted to make love to you last night)

"but you were too tired to even kiss me goodnight." he murmured.

"I thought you were tired as well," you say, your voice laced with apology.

Kylian shakes his head, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Tired or not, I always have energy for you."

As he was talking, you felt a sudden boldness wash over you. You slowly straddled his lap, feeling the warmth of his muscles beneath you. His hands automatically wrapped tightly around your waist, his thumbs tracing lazy circles on the bare skin above your pajama bottoms. Your heart hammered in your chest, the sudden closeness filling the void you'd felt since he left your side hours ago.

"If you can forgive me for being too tired," you said playfully, pecking his neck lightly, feeling his pulse quicken beneath your lips, "then maybe we can make up for it now." Your breath was hot against his skin, and you watched with a mischievous smile as his eyes closed, his head tilting back to give you better access.

He groaned softly as your kisses grew more insistent, his hands tightening around your waist.

"I can forgive you for anything." His voice was a low rumble, the hint of a chuckle in it.

You slid your hands into his head as you claimed his mouth in a deep, hungry kiss. The exhaustion of the day melted away, replaced by a burning need to connect, to reaffirm the bond that had been stretched thin by their separate ambitions. Kylian's arms tightened around you, lifting you slightly to align your bodies more perfectly. The strength in his embrace was reassuring, a promise that no matter how crazy their lives got, he would always be there to hold you.

The muscles on his thighs, so defined and powerful, flexed beneath you as he shifted his weight. The feeling of them against your inner thighs sent a shiver through your body, and you found yourself grinding against him instinctively. His breath hitched, his eyes darkening with desire as he felt your heat. The connection between you was undeniable, a physical pull that transcended the physical exertion of the day.

Without breaking eye contact, Kylian leaned in, his mouth a whisper away from your ear.

"You want to fuck yourself against my thigh?" His voice was a low growl, the suggestion a heady mix of dirty and sweet that sent a thrill through your core.

Please. You nodded, your eyes giving him a needy stare, silently pleading for more.

"Let me see how desperate you are for me."

Kylian's hands slid around to the small of your back, pressing you closer to him. He controlled your movements by swaying your waist on his own accord, his strong thighs flexing beneath you. The friction against your clit was exquisite, building a crescendo of sensation that had you gasping for air.

His eyes never left yours, holding you in a silent contract of desire. The intensity in his gaze was unwavering, a stark contrast to the effort you put in to keep your own eyes from rolling in pleasure. The dance of your bodies grew more urgent, your breaths mingling in the small space between your faces. His eyes searched yours, reading the story of your need like an open book. You bit your bottom lip, trying hard not to let the ecstasy overtake you too soon.

The pleasure was building, a crescendo of sensation that seemed to resonate through every inch of your body. Despite the thin barrier of fabric between your clit and his muscled thighs, the friction was electric. Every time you moved, every time he flexed, a wave of pure bliss washed over you. You could feel the heat emanating from him, the power in his muscles, the throb of his arousal pressing against you. The fabric of your pajama bottoms was soaked with your desire, the dampness a silent testament to the pleasure he was giving you.

As the pressure grew, so did the tension between you. The air was thick with it, a palpable force that seemed to vibrate in time with your racing heartbeats. You could feel it coiling tighter and tighter, a spring ready to snap. The eye contact was unbreakable, a silent conversation of need and want that spoke louder than any words could have.

Suddenly, Kylian adjusted his thighs, aligning them directly over your clit. The contact was more than you could bear, and a guttural moan tore from your throat. Your eyes rolled back in your head, the sensation so intense it was almost painful. You leaned in closer, your forehead resting against his, your breaths mingling in the space between your open mouths. Your eyes fluttered closed, unable to maintain the connection, but you felt his own eyes still on you, watching, absorbing every second of your unraveling.

"That's it, mon amour."

"You like that, don't you?" He murmured, his voice thick with lust.

His words were a symphony of dirty praise, a crescendo of filth that pushed you closer to the edge. You could feel the throb of his erection, his desire for you pulsing in time with your own.

"You like fucking my thighs."

His hands slid up to cup your breasts, his thumbs flicking over your sensitive nipples.

"Tu es tellement parfaite." he groaned. (You are so perfect)

He knew your body so well and could feel every twitch and tremble that signalled your impending climax. His arousal was evident, his thighs flexing beneath you, his erection straining against the fabric of his shorts.

With a final, desperate roll of your hips, you came apart in his arms, your body shuddering with the force of your orgasm. It was a silent scream, a release of all the tension that had built up over the weeks of distance and exhaustion. Kylian's eyes never left yours, his smile a smug one of satisfaction as he watched you come undone.

As the tremors subsided, you collapsed against his chest, your body boneless and sated. He held you tight, his strong arms a warm cocoon that shielded you from the world outside.

Kylian gently kissed the top of your head, his breathing gradually evening out.

He leaned back, his thighs still beneath you, and reached for the water bottle on the gym floor. Unscrewing the cap, he held it to your lips, urging you to take a sip. The cool water was a stark contrast to the heat that still lingered between your legs, and you drank greedily, feeling it revive you like a lifeline thrown into a stormy sea.

He took a swig himself before setting the bottle aside, his eyes never leaving yours.

"But we're not done yet, are we?"

His voice had that playful lilt that told you he had more in store. He wrapped his arms around your waist and, with surprising grace for his muscular frame, stood up, lifting you with him. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his hips, his erection pressing against your center.

cleaning my drafts 🧹 lmao. when that clip was released on twt i was so bored that i went to tumblr to write this 😭

[maikissed]

post euro Kylian Mbappé oneshot :') yo, this supposed to be a fluff but then i started ovulating and it turned into a smut, tehe !warning: smut, +18

The bed was empty when you opened your eyes, rising up on your hands lazily to take a look in the direction of the bathroom, you realised that there was no light coming from under the closed doors. The clock on the nightstand showed 2:31 am, so you pulled the sheets away from your body, your limbs shaking slightly at the cool air that touched you after you stood up from the bed. A little yawn left your mouth as you reached the corridor, slowly turning to the stairs, your bare feet tapping gently on the wooden floors. Silence ringed in your ears as you reached the down floor, there was a dim light coming from the kitchen. Slowly, you approached the threshold, not fully entering the room just yet. Kylian stood leaned on his elbows on the kitchen island, his phone in front of his face, you could tell he was reading something but you were too far to deduce whatever reading might absorb his attention at this hour. You could have your guesses and it troubled you. You took a minute to observe him just a bit, his tired stance, stiff shoulders, upper lip bitten, fingers drumming gently on the surface when he wasn’t scrolling down to reach next lines of the article. He was desperate for a peaceful sleep and a proper rest, yet he wasn’t given one. You could tell. No matter the upcoming vacation, that you in a matter of fact were heading to tomorrow, this was the start of his silent contemplation days. Good thing he agreed to go instead of rushing to the training centre first thing he came back from Germany. Still, whatever he might have chosen, you would accept it. He needed his quiet, his stillness. But a third night without a full night sleep for him upset you even though you’ve already learned that it was inevitable when it came to him, and that you both had to give it time. He always struggled with sleep after games, the good ones or the bad ones, it was the adrenaline, the amount of incentives. However it was yet again the occurrence when his hard work, his passion and the absolute devotion burnt out on the last step to reach the longed for fulfilment.

You took a few steps his way before he noticed your presence. You smiled softly at him.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” he questioned, his voice hoarse.

“The bed was empty” you whispered sneaking in between him and the counter, without a glimpse to his phone screen, with aim to interrupt his reading.

There was a little wrinkle that has formed between his brows so you reached with your fingers to gently smoothen it. He closed his eyes in answer to the delicate massage and after a moment you could feel his face relax.

“What were you reading?” you asked softly still caressing gently his face, moving from his brows to the forehead and then very gently, feather like touch with the tip of your finger down his nose.

“Some statistics” he shrugged.

“Mhm” you answered amusingly, knowing better, but deciding not to dwell on it.

That small wrinkle appeared back so you stroked it again, before bringing your hands down his nape. He let out a big breath with his eyes still closed when you massaged his neck and shoulders.

“I had this dream” you started, watching his face breaking into a little smile because your dreams tend to be the most astounding and loony. Made him cackle and question the state of your thoughts every time you were narrating to him the stories created by your own mind.

 “Everything was blue or orange, that’s how I saw the colours surrounding me, and turned out I was this little funny dog with fluffy orange fur and petite face and paws. You know, the one that looks like a toy”

He chuckled.

“A Pomeranian?”

“Yes!” you nodded “And you were furious, because we had to take this flight and you didn’t know how to travel with me” you continued “So we went to the airport and the tiny man at the check-in, he wore a big straw sun hat you know, probably stole it from some poor old lady…” the smallest details made him laugh and you smiled brightly at him trying to bring back his full attention on you with a squeeze on his shoulders “He told you that you didn’t purchase the transport for me on your ticket and you furiously showed him my very own ticket. So then he picked out that it was in fact a ticket for a person, not for a little dog and that I have to travel in the luggage hatch with the rest of the animals, and you were so angry you wanted to fight him”

“That’s no surprise” he added rather seriously.

“Yes, and then it turned out that they have to place me in a different type of transport”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, in a fricking balloon!”

He burst out laughing at the resentment in your voice.

“So you put some obnoxious collar on me, too big and too heavy, but you said it’s a tracker in case I got lost. And you just let them take me to that horrific balloon!” you shrieked.

“I would never do that” he acknowledged with a hurt look on his face before he smiled at you again “You ate too much sugar yesterday and you should stop worrying about the trip”

“Sure, alright, maybe” you shrugged a bit stressed now as you reminisced your horrid dream.

He kept his gaze on you, delicate glimmer making his way back into his dark eyes, for the first time in few days.

“Do you want me to make some camomile tea?” you asked leaning into him, your hands connected behind his head.

“No, I already had one”

“Okay” you nodded “Should we go back to bed?” a whisper.

He kissed you gently before agreeing, then proceeded to bend down a little, his hands resting on the back of your thighs to pick you up. You nestled into his arms as he carried you back up to your rooms. Slowly, the drowsiness coming back to you. The truth was you never rested well when he spend his sleepless nights wandering around the house. As soon as he gently laid you down on the sheets, you reached for him with your hands to bring him back much closer.

“I’m not going anywhere” he reassured, the heat of his body coating you from above, you sighed as your eyes begun to accustom to the darkness.

“I know” you whispered looking into his eyes.

This moment you realised how you’ve missed him terribly for this last month, despite the fact you were seeing each other as often as possible. Yet never alone, never the two of you, no intimacy allowed. It came to you quickly, when he held you like this, touched you, moved above you, you were tired and you were aroused, two of these feelings mixing and fogging your thoughts, your body turning responsive even before he would touch you properly. You kissed him, your desirous fingers reached for the edges of his t-shirt to pull it off, your oversized tee quickly followed. Gentle, when you both were weary like this, it was the most gentle and slow and considerate. It’s been long.

Slow, deep kisses, he was the best at those you always admitted, made the next beat of your heart stronger than before. Breath hitching in your throat at the feeling of his fingers tenderly wandering around your breasts, ribs, between your thighs. The room filled with a sharp intake of breath of both of you as he entered you swiftly. You relaxed for a second and then he moved, your muscles flexed, your mind and your body tired. Your eyes closed, your lips quickly searching for his when he broke contact for a moment. His thrusts sloppy and lazy, his mouth precise, the kisses turning wetter. The pleasure build swiftly and you whined against his lips, your moans intensifying when it fumbled inside you without any intention to peak at any time.

“Do you want me to use my mouth?” he asked against your skin, his lips tracing your jaw.

“N-no!” you panicked weakly, grasping at his back, going lower to push down at him.

Your hips rising to fuck back, making him groan, and goose-bumps spread all over your skin when the sensation added to your upcoming orgasm. That’s when he looked at you.

“My sweet girl” he breathed, his eyes sparkly “Needed my attention all this time”

That, that was what almost pushed you over the edge but you gulped hard, focused on it, tried to block it for just a little bit more time. And he saw it, knew what you were trying to do so he kissed you again, adjusted his hips to add more pressure to his thrusts, perfectly reaching the most responsive places. You didn’t see that coming but his fingers reached down to join the place you were connected, putting sweet pressure on your clit. You squirmed feeling your walls clench around him. The first sharp pull inside you told you the pinnacle was coming strong and you started to pathetically mewl under him. And more, and more, and gentler, but then stronger, almost like he toyed with you. You already felt worn out, still you fought him, wanted this feeling to last longer so he could join you at the end, but most of the times he aimed to break you before he came. He loved making this about you, stubborn fucker. He took true pleasure in it.

“Let go” he murmured, his voice deep and daring “I know you want to, don’t fight me”

You wanted to bit back, you did, you wanted to put up with this challenge, but you were too weak to even blink. You were at him mercy yet again. Easily he picked up your hips with his hand wrapped around your waist and you cried out at the new angle. He knew he had you there good. Always, like he wanted.

“Come on, baby, you’re done. Come for me” he cooed.

Your chest heaving, blood in your veins pumping quicker, your moans louder and you crashed, falling apart in his arms like this, frail, small and shaky.

ummm, chile, anyways, so.....

[4virgil4]

DYING ffs 😭😂😭😭

[allgoodnamesrgoneee]

hey babes x breeding kink w mbappé? 😊😇

Baby

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — Your husband wants a baby

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Kylian Mbappé x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 2.5k

Warnings! NSFW! SMUT (18+), unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (f receiving), breeding kink, dom!Kylian, sub!reader.

You could feel his gaze from across the room, boring into your skin as you desperately tried to focus on your conversation with Fayza but it was impossible.

Your husband is insatiable.

Ever since you told him you wanted to try for a baby, he's been sticking to you like glue. Following you around, not wanting you out of his sight, practically like a second skin.

You shift in your seat and wince a little, the soreness between your thighs a reminder of what happened just before you got here. "Are you alright?" Fayza asks, noticing your discomfort.

"Yeah, just a cramp. I'm fine." She stared at you for a second longer before accepting your explanation. But you know she knows. How could she not, with the way Kylian was practically undressing you with his eyes, from his spot on the couch.

Speak of the devil.

"Mom, I think it's time that Y/N and I go. It's getting late and I have training tomorrow." You feel his palm on your shoulder, hot and heavy. You feel his hands slide across your shoulders to grip the back of your neck, and you shudder.

Fayza frowns slightly, her lips pursing together in thought. "Alright dear, make sure Y/N rests her feet." She smiles at you both, before returning to her conversation with Ethan .

Kylian's hand tugs you to your feet, his touch burning hotter than a brand. You feel his hand slide down your arm and over your waist, until it comes to rest on your hip. You can feel his cock pressed up against your ass, already hard. He leans down to kiss you softly on the cheek, his breath dancing across your skin. "Shall we?" He purrs.

You nod, feeling your pussy clench around nothing as you follow him out of the house. He guides you to the car and opens the door for you, his smile lighting up the night.

You feel a little flutter in your stomach, you love when he's like this. He always goes out of his way to be the best husband ever, especially since you've told him you want a baby.

He helps you into the car, before sliding behind the wheel.

"I had fun tonight," he says, glancing over at you as he reverses out of the driveway. "You are stunning. Je suis un sacré veinard." He smiles softly, and your heart melts.

"I had fun too," you say, reaching out to brush your fingers across his hand. His palm curls around yours and he squeezes lightly, wedding band catching the moonlight. "I'm lucky to have you too."

You lean over to kiss his cheek and he smiles softly at you, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek. You feel him trace your jaw and move down your throat, until it comes to rest on the top of your collarbone. "You're perfect," he murmurs, his thumb running across the collar of your dress.

You whimper quietly, heat building in your core as you feel your pussy get wet. "I can't wait to get you home," he says, his voice low and rough. Your pussy clenches around nothing again, and you feel a rush of excitement at the promise in his voice.

The ride home is a blur. You can't focus on anything except for the way he keeps touching you. His hand moves up and down your thigh, occasionally dipping under your skirt to rub your inner thigh.

He's playing dirty tonight.

By the time he pulls into the driveway, you're panting, desperate for his touch. You hear the car door open and his hand is on your elbow, helping you out of the car.

His arms slide around your waist, pulling you against him as he kisses you. He's soft and sweet, but you know this won't last long. He'll be rough soon, he's been holding back for too long. Even though he had you a couple of hours ago.

His hand slides down to grip your ass and he lifts you, making you wrap your legs around his waist.

His lips never leave yours as he carries you into the house, his steps quick and determined. The moment the front door closes behind you, he presses you against it, his mouth devouring yours. You feel his tongue slide in your mouth, his fingers digging into your ass as he grinds against you.

He pulls away from you for a second, and you gasp for air, your heart pounding in your chest. He kisses you softly, his hands running over your body in a gentle exploration. "Mon trésor," he murmurs. "You're going to make such a good mom."

You melt a little more at his words, his praise always makes you feel good.

He smiles as you flush red, his hands sliding under your dress to cup your ass. He rubs your ass cheeks, before his hand dips between your legs and his fingers slide into your panties. "You're so wet," he groans, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it.

You gasp, your hips bucking against him. His fingers circle your clit, his palm pressing against you. "Oh fuck," he groans. "You're dripping."

"I need you," you gasp.

He growls and pulls his hand out from between your legs. "Take off your dress."

You nod, reaching behind yourself to pull the zipper down. You let the fabric fall to the floor and you stand before him in nothing but a pair of lacy red panties. You knew he would be like this. He has been for the past few weeks. Insatiable.

His eyes rake over you, taking in every inch of you. "You look delicious." He kisses you again, his hands cupping your breasts. He squeezes them lightly before his hands slide down your sides to your hips.

He kneels before you, pulling your panties off of you and throwing them behind him. You gasp, feeling the cool air on your sore wet pussy. He leans forward and kisses your mound, his hands cupping your ass as he pulls you forward to kiss you. "Kylian," you moan, your hands clawing at his shoulders. "Please."

He licks his lips, before running them over your pussy, licking and sucking on your clit. Your sensitivity has you crying out, knees trembling as you feel pleasure wash over you. His tongue dips inside of you and you feel him growl against you, the vibrations making you gasp. You feel him lick you slowly, before he pulls away and stands.

He kisses you hard, his hands sliding down your body to your upper thighs, gripping it and lifting you again. He carries you down the hall to your bedroom, before he gently throws you onto the bed.

He steps back and pulls off his clothes, his cock hard and thick. You lick your lips, feeling your pussy clench with anticipation. "Kylian," you gasp, holding out your arms for him. "Please."

He chuckles and walks over to you, leaning over the bed to kiss you. He lies down beside you and kisses you, his hands running over your body in a slow exploration. "I love you," he murmurs, his lips dancing over your jaw and down your neck.

"I love you," you moan, your hands sliding up his arms to wrap around his neck.

He kisses you again, his hands running over your breasts and stomach, before one slides between your legs and cups your pussy. "I can't believe you're mine," he murmurs, his fingers sliding inside of you. The coolness of his wedding band feels fucking amazing.

You moan, your hips bucking against his hand. "Please," you beg, "I need you."

He growls, lips trailing a line down your body. He kisses your stomach and you feel him smile against you. "mine to kiss," he says, his hands gripping your thighs to spread them. "Mine to taste." He leans forward and kisses you, his tongue sliding inside of you. "Mine to fuck."

You cry out, your hips bucking against him as you feel him lap at you. "Kylian!" You gasp, your pussy clenching around his tongue. "Please!"

He chuckles, his hands sliding up your thighs to spread them wider. He pulls away and looks up at you, his eyes dark with lust. "You taste so good," he groans, licking his lips. "I can't get enough of you." He kisses your mound, before he slides a finger inside of you. "I'm never letting you go."

You moan, your pussy clenching around his finger. Then he dives back in, his tongue circling your clit and making you cry out. He sucks on your clit and you feel a rush of pleasure wash over you. You gasp, your hips bucking against him. "Oh fuck," you cry out, your pussy clenching around him.

He groans, his fingers curling inside of you, his mouth still attached to your pussy. You feel him growl against you, his tongue fucking you. "Kylian!" You scream, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave.

He doesn't let up, his tongue lapping at you as he fingers you through your orgasm. He moans, his hands moving to your hips to pull you closer to him. He kisses your clit and you feel him smile against you. "Perfect." He murmurs, his lips moving up your body to kiss you.

He licks your cum off of his lips and you feel a rush of lust.

You pull him into you, kissing him hard and deep. You taste yourself on him and you feel another wave of pleasure roll over you. He pulls away from you, his eyes dark with lust. "Baby," you moan, wrapping your legs around his hips.

He grins, his hands sliding down your body to your hips. "You want it?" he growls.

"Yes," you gasp, feeling your pussy clench in anticipation. "Please."

You moan, your hips bucking against him.

He leans forward and kisses you, his cock nudging your entrance. You feel him press forward, his cock slowly filling you. It's pain, it's bliss. You're still a little sore from earlier but the stretch is incredible. "Oh god," you moan, your pussy clenching around him. "You feel so good."

He groans, his hands gripping your hips as he thrusts into you. "You're so tight," he murmurs, his hands moving to your ass. "I don't know how much longer I can hold back."

"Don't " you gasp, your hands sliding up his arms to grip his shoulders. "Don't hold back. Give it to me." And he does.

He groans, his thrusts becoming faster and harder. His lips trail across your neck and collarbone, leaving a path of heat. "Oh fuck, this fucking pussy." he gasps.

You feel yourself clenching around him, another orgasm building inside of you. "Kylian," you cry out, your legs trembling.

"Mine," he grunts, his thrusts becoming erratic and you know you're not walking tomorrow. "This pussy is mine. You're mine."

"Yours," you moan, your orgasm crashing over you. Your pussy clenches around him, milking his cock. He moans, his fingers digging into your ass as he pounds you harder. The sound of our bodies slapping together fills the room, along with your moans. You wish you could feel shame at how wet you are, but you can't. He feels too good inside of you.

"Kylian!" you scream, your orgasm rolling over you.

"Putain," he groans, his thrusts becoming slower. "merde, such a tight little pussy." He grunts, his fingers digging into your thigh. "I can't wait to make you a mom." He growls, his hips slamming against you.

"Please," you moan, your pussy clenching around him. "Fill me. Please fill me."

He groans, his hips bucking against you as he thrusts hard into you. "You want my cum?" he taunts, his hands moving to your stomach to rub your skin. "You want my cum in that pretty pink pussy?"

"Yes," you moan, your pussy clenching around him. "Please. I need it. I need your cum in me."

His thrusts becoming harder. You feel him swell inside of you, his cock throbbing as he fucks you. "Yeah," he grunts. "I'm gonna fucking give it to you. My wife, my lover." He moans, his fingers digging into your stomach. "My future baby momma."

You moan, your pussy clenching around him as you feel him swell inside of you. "Holy shit!" you scream, your pussy clenching around him as his cum fills you. You feel it hit the back of your pussy, his cock pulsating inside of you as he cums. "Oh fuck!" you cry out, your pussy milking him for more. You feel his cum fill you up, and you know you're dripping with it.

He thrusts a few more times, neck straining as he empties himself into you. Then he stills, his head dropping forward to rest on your chest. "Mon amour," he murmurs, his breathing ragged. "Tu es parfaite."

You smile, running your hand over his hair. "Je t'aime." you murmur, your voice soft.

He smiles, his lips moving up to kiss you. He kisses you hard and deep, his hands moving to hold you against him. "I'm so glad I'm your husband " he murmurs, his voice soft. "You're all mine." He nuzzles into your neck and you feel him smile against you. "And now," he murmurs, his hands sliding down your body to cup your stomach. "both of you will be mine." His hands rub your skin, and you feel yourself melt.

The intensity of the moment lingers in the room, a mixture of passion and tenderness surrounding you both. Kylian's breath warms your skin as he nuzzles into your neck, his fingers trace lazy patterns on your back, and you let out a contented sigh.

"Are you happy?" he whispers, his voice soft and full of love.

You nod, lifting your head to meet his gaze. "I am," you say, your voice equally tender. "I couldn't ask for more."

He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Good," he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Because I want to give you everything."

The love in his eyes makes your heart flutter, and you reach up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing over his skin. "You already have," you reply softly.

His cock is still hard inside of you, his cum dripping from your pussy. He rolls you over and you feel him settle between your legs again. "Kylian," you moan, his lips trailing a line up your neck. "I can't again." You gasp, your pussy clenching around him.

He chuckles, his lips moving down to your chest. "don't worry baby," he murmurs, his lips moving over your skin. "I'm just plugging you up. Wouldn't want any of my cum leaking out." He murmurs, his lips moving down to your stomach.

You stay like that for God knows how long, his cock filling you up as his some of his cum drips out of you. He holds you against him, his hands stroking your skin as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. His lips trail over your skin, his breath dancing across your neck and collarbone. You feel yourself relax, his touch melting into you like a second skin. "Je t'aime," he murmurs.

"Je t'aime aussi," you reply, your voice soft. "Forever." You murmur, your eyes drifting closed.

"Forever," he echoes, his voice soft. You feel his lips press against your skin, before everything goes black. And you're left with the hope of a baby growing inside of you. Your husband's seed growing in your belly, his child.

He follows with a smile on his face.

-Bianca🌻

[mbebe-fc]

hold the baby gently

[aloobadu]

Never stops talking

[monikanarnia]

[spidybaby]

The "A" Team

Summary: Kylian needs your help to get out of an awkward situation.

Warnings: none ❤️

Kylian was impatient, knee bouncing as a sign of it.

He was in a PSG meeting, all the players needed to be there for a very long talk about the new season changes with Luis Enrique.

Kylian was leaving, but that didn't mean he wasn't forced to go. He tried his best to get out of there.

He wasn't going to be there for the new season, so why was he there?

Hakimi and him were making jokes and messing with Ousmane and Fabian. Earning a few glares from the technical team and making them stop.

He needed a plan, he wanted to get out of there. He was thinking about taking a nap, he felt tired.

"Don't yawn again, you're making me yawn." Achraf hit him with his arm. "Why are you even here for? You're fired."

"I'm not fired." He says, the sassy tone makes Achraf smile. "I put up my two weeks."

"Six months better say." Ousmane joins. "Kylian Saint Germain ain't going to be Kylian Saint Germain anymore." He jokes, sad that at the end his friend will leave the team.

Kylian laugh, he can't deny that he will miss the team, the trainers, the family he created there, and people who he will forever love.

When they give them a few minutes to get something to eat or drink at the little table they set for that, Kylian got an idea.

You were home, resting from a flue. You were free to help him to get out of there. Maybe if you called him he can fake an emergency.

He texted you, ready to settle the plan and make it work in the next fifteen minutes he has to use his phone and to eat something.

You were doing some tv marathon, watching Sponge Bob while eating some popcorn. When your phone rings, you check that kylian was asking you to call him in five and ask him to pick you up.

You smile, he was bored and helpless with the talk.

Credit of the pic to: @kylianmbappee, thank you for letting me use it for this ❤️✨️

You continue watching Sponge Bob, waiting for the time to go. When you checked if the five minutes passed, you were ready to act.

Kylian was with Achraf, Fabian and Luis Enrique when his phone rang, he smiled. "Lover boy can't spend a moment without his lady." Fabian says.

"C'mon, let us say hi to our favorite girl." Achraf jokes. He always request to talk to you and mess with you over the phone.

"Let me put her on speaker." He smiles, he knows the show is about to start. "Bonjour, bébé."

"Kylian, oh my God, please, I need you." You fake cry, it sounds so real that he almost forgets about your plan. "I don't know what happened, I don't have anyone to call, please come. I don't want to be alone here, ky please."

The looks of the three men is a poem, the worried eyes, and open mouths. They're down.

"Joder, where is she?" Fabian says, he's very much worried about you. "Joder, Ky you need to go."

He was about to turn to where they were seated when you kept going.

"Kylian, please hurry. I need you here." You cry harder this time.

"Kylian, go. This meeting can wait." Luis pushed him to the door. They all are worried. "Hurry, go."

He takes the speaker off, you still acting up and crying for help. He asks you where you are, pretending to be worried, and he wins a few glares of people around them.

"I'm on my way, amour, wait please." He grabs his coat, Achraf is asking him is he needs a ride, he shake his head no. "Don't hang up, I'm on my way."

"Text me when you're with her." Hakimi pats his back as he runs to the door. "Be safe."

He exited the club quickly, telling his driver to take him home. Once they're two blocks away from the club he laughs.

"You're such a great actress. If you want, I can get you a role on a show." He jokes with you. "I'll be home in a few, mon amour."

"Bring me some boneless and a soda, a big one, like really big." You say, hungry after that big role you pull. "And some dessert, maybe two pieces of cake." You exaggerate.

"Everything for you, I'll be there as soon as I get your things."

You smile knowing that your role was good and you will have your man all the evening with you.

While he gets back to you, you are still streaming Sponge Bob, realizing and thinking about what a krabby patty taste like.

"Amour, I'm home."

You turn your head to him, getting up and walking to him with your arms open, ready to greet your lover.

"Hello, Mister Mbappé, I heard your girlfriend had a thing going on, poor girl. She's really unstable." You kiss him, smirking about your joke.

"She is, but you know what they say, the crazier the better." He kisses you again, pecking your lips many times until he pulls away.

"I got you your wings and your cake, plus the biggest soda I could purchase." He hug you from the back, pointing at all the things he got you.

You two sit down to watch a movie, not thinking much about the day or the meeting.

"Hakimi just texted me, he's asking if I'm okay." You show him the text. "I'm just going to ignore it for the day."

"Yeah, I left my phone on airplane mode." He smirks. "I'm spending some time with my fav member of our A team."

"We're an A team." You smile, hugging him while cuddling on the couch.

🪷🪷🪷

[u6is]

i fucked my way up to the top this is my show

summary: as a stripper at a buzzing nightclub, you’re drawn into a tantalizing challenge when kylian demands someone "truly unforgettable," pushing you to test the limits of desire and control.

anora inspired one shot!

note: this story is entirely fictional and not meant to glorify or romanticize harmful behaviour.

—kylian mbappé x reader: smut

Madrid at night is a symphony of freedom, a dance of lights and shadows where the city bares its soul.

The air was thick with the scent of cologne and perfume, the walls painted in a haze of cigarette smoke and sweat. The dim lights and strobe effects of the club where you worked cast shadows that danced with the beat of the music, creating a world both seductive and a little dangerous.

It was your kind of place.

Your eyes scanned the sea of faces, searching for the one that would signal the start of your night's performance.

As a lap dancer, you had mastered the art of reading the room, knowing exactly when and where to make your move, your confidence cloaked in the dim glow of the club's lights.

The job was far from perfect, but you couldn’t deny the way it made you feel. Working as a sex worker in the city’s electrifying nightclubs gave you a sense of confidence and control that was hard to find elsewhere. It wasn’t just about the money, though keeping the bills paid on time certainly helped—it was about owning your power in a world that often tried to take it away.

It was about making ends meet, one performance at a time.

The thumping bass of the music vibrated through the soles of your towering stilettos, setting the tempo for your hunt.

You spotted a man in the corner, nursing a whiskey neat, his tie loosened just enough to hint at the day's conquests. His eyes followed you as you approached, a spark of curiosity igniting in his gaze. He looked lonely, a perfect candidate for the kind of intimate escape you offered.

You flashed him a coy smile, your voice dripping with flirtation.

"Want to have some fun on the private chairs?" you teased, the question laced with a playful edge, like a trap expertly set. He nodded, reaching for your hand as you led him toward the chair, falling into your trap without a moment's hesitation.

He sat down, his eyes locked on yours, as you began to circle him, the fabric of your dress whispering against his skin.

As you danced, you could feel his breath quicken, and his pupils dilate. You moved closer, your movements more deliberate and sensual, the air between you crackling with energy. Your hands traced the contours of your body, a silent story of temptation and desire. The man's eyes never left yours, his grip tightening on the chair's arms as you leaned in, your breath warm against his ear. You felt his heart race, a silent symphony that only you could hear.

You executed your routine with the precision of a seasoned professional, each move calculated to elicit a gasp or a moan. Your hips swayed to the beat of the music, your hands gliding over the fabric that barely contained your curves.

With a seductive twirl, you began to strip the dress from your body, revealing inch by tantalizing inch of your smooth, bare skin. His eyes grew wide with anticipation as the dress slipped lower, exposing the lacy lingerie that matched the fiery red of your lips.

As the dress pooled around your ankles, you stepped closer and straddled his lap, your legs encasing him in a warm embrace. You could feel his heart pound through the fabric of his tailored suit as your thighs pressed against his. Your hands roamed over your body, tracing the path of your curves, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

With the dress fully removed, you started your work, grinding on him with a rhythm that was as old as time itself. His eyes were glued to yours, pupils dilated with lust as your hips moved in slow, tantalizing circles. You felt the heat radiating from his body, the tension building in the air as you leaned back, your hands on his shoulders for balance. Your breasts, freed from their lacy confines, bounced with each movement, taunting him with every delicious inch of exposed skin.

The music grew louder, the lights dimmer, as you lost yourself in the dance, your body moving in perfect harmony with the pulsating beat. You leaned forward, your hair cascading around his face like a fiery waterfall as your mouth hovered just above his. You could feel the heat of his breath, the moistness of his lips, and the desperate need in his eyes. The grind grew more intense, your movements more deliberate as you felt him growing hard beneath you.

As the song reached its crescendo, he pulled out a crisp bill, placing it on the string of your panties with a trembling hand. You took the offering with a smile that could melt the coldest of hearts, your eyes never leaving his. With a flick of your hips, the bill fluttered away, joining the others that had found their home in the elastic band of your underwear. He leaned back in his chair, his gaze filled with a mix of admiration and hunger.

The man's eyes were glued to your every motion, his mouth slightly parted in anticipation. You knew the effect you had on him, had seen it countless times before.

As you were about to finish your lap dance with him, he started touching you inappropriately. His hands were like iron bars, gripping your thighs and sliding upwards. The music was so loud that you weren't sure if he'd even heard your firm "no" the first time you whispered it into his ear.

You sweetly put his hands away, looking into his eyes with a smile that didn't quite reach your own.

"Remember," you said, your voice a soft purr that was almost lost in the bass of the music, "touching can cost you more of what you pay to me." His expression faltered for a moment, surprise and confusion playing across his features.

You leaned in closer, so close that your breath was hot on his skin, and whispered again, "It's all part of the experience, darling. But you need to respect the boundaries if you want to enjoy the show."

No touching from the client, just grinding against them. That was the rule, all part of the dance. The unspoken contract between you two that existed only in the confines of the club.

Thanking him sweetly, you bent over, your breasts brushing against his face, and whispered, "Thank you, darling," making sure the sweetness in your voice was as genuine as the warmth that emanated from your smile.

Finally, you pulled back, leaving him gasping for air, and with a playful wink, you dismounted his lap.

You sauntered away, leaving the man in a daze of desire, before disappearing into the throngs of the club. The night was still young, and you had more clients to attend to.

Each dance was a performance, a chance to escape the mundane and immerse yourself in a world of passion and power.

After a string of lap dances with eager men, you decided to take a brief respite, slipping into the dressing room to freshen up. The cool air was a stark contrast to the heat of the stage, and you took a deep breath, savouring the quietude. The mirror reflected your flushed cheeks and the sparkle in your eyes, evidence of the rush that came from the dance. You applied a fresh coat of crimson lipstick, ensuring that it remained as vibrant as the passion you stirred in your audience.

Inside, the manager, a man named Alejandro, spotted you and hurried over. His eyes widened with a mix of excitement and apprehension, as if he had seen a ghost or had a secret he couldn't wait to spill. You felt a flicker of curiosity as he approached, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.

"Tonight, we’ve got someone big. An important client," he started, his voice low despite the pounding music. "He specifically asked for the most beautiful girl in the club," he added, a sly smile playing on his lips. "And let’s just say, he’s ready to pay more than you can imagine." He leaned in closer, the minty warmth of his breath brushing against your ear.

You took a step back, crossing your arms over your chest.

"And you chose me?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, a challenge in your tone.

Alejandro nodded, his eyes scanning you up and down.

"You're the best we've got." he said, his voice sticky with flattery. "He wants someone truly unforgettable."

After hearing Alejandro mention the pay, you couldn’t help but think about how much money this could be. The sum was tempting, a figure that could make a real difference. It wasn’t just about the job. It was about the money, the kind that could take care of everything for a while.

You tilted your head, curiosity creeping into your voice. "Who is he?"

Alejandro hesitated, glancing over his shoulder before leaning in closer. "The place is full of football players tonight," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I was told... it's for Mbappé."

A flicker of surprise crossed your face, but you quickly masked it. The thrill that had been simmering under the surface now burned brighter, and you couldn’t help but smirk.

Truly unforgettable, huh?

The dressing room was a whirlwind of glitter and naked skin as the other dancers prepped for the night.

They all knew what it meant when the VIP section called for a private performance. A few of them shot you envious glances, but you didn't blame them.

Performing for someone like a football player was a golden opportunity—not just for the pay, but for the story it would make.

You slipped into your costume, a seductive ensemble that clung to your curves like a lover's embrace. Each bead and sequin had been meticulously placed to dazzle and distract.

The music grew louder as Alejandro returned to lead you through the curtains to the VIP area. The crowd was a sea of faces, all blending into one hungry gaze.

There, in the corner, sat Mbappé, surrounded by his teammates—his eyes locked onto you as if you were the only person in the room.

You could feel the weight of their gaze as it landed on you. Alejandro gave you a tap on the back before walking away, leaving you to introduce yourself.

"Hi, I'm Bella," you said, your stage name rolling off your tongue.

"Kylian," he replied, taking your hands in a firm handshake.

Kylian's eyes were like pools of molten chocolate, rich and inviting. You could feel the intensity in his gaze, commanding and powerful, just like his presence on the pitch—a football God, intimidating and dominating.

"These are my teammates," he said, gesturing to the group of muscular men surrounding him. "Vini, Jude, and Brahim." Each one greeted you with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

With a casual confidence that only the truly talented possess, you perched on the velvet chair beside Kylian, your bare legs crossing elegantly. He leaned back, a smug smirk playing on his lips as he offered you a shot of something potent and clear. You took the glass with a grace that seemed to catch him off guard for a moment, your fingers brushing against his in a fleeting, electric touch.

"To an unforgettable night," he toasted, his French accent wrapping around the words like a lover's embrace.

The night grew hotter as the drinks flowed and the conversation grew more intimate. Kylian was surprisingly charming, his arrogance tempered by a wit that made you laugh. The tension between you was a dance of its own, a delicate interplay of power and allure that neither of you could ignore. His hand hovered near yours, the air crackling with the potential of a touch that never quite came.

His fingers brushed against your skin as he reached for the champagne bottle, and the spark that ignited was undeniable. You felt your body lean into him, craving more of his attention, and he didn't disappoint. His touch grew bolder, tracing the curve of your arm, the line of your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

Each caress was a question, and your body responded with a silent "yes."

The music seemed to pulse in time with your racing heart, the bass a seductive whisper in your ear that told you to let go.

The strobe lights painted the room in flashes of light and shadow, playing across Kylian's chiseled features. His eyes never left yours, darkening with a hunger that mirrored your own. His hand slid down to rest on your thigh, the heat of his palm searing through the fabric of your costume. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the restrained power of a man who was used to getting what he wanted. But tonight, you were in control.

You leaned in closer, an idea sparking in your mind. "You know I'm just here to dance, right?" you whispered against his ear, your voice teasing. "Would you like a private performance?" His smirk deepened, and his eyes darkened with desire.

"Well, since you're special," he said, his voice low, "we can go to a private room."

You stood, your hips swaying to the rhythm of the music that was now your heartbeat. You led him through a hidden door, away from the prying eyes of the club.

The room was dimly lit, a stark contrast to the neon chaos outside. A plush, velvet couch dominated the space, surrounded by mirrors that reflected the desire in his eyes as he watched you. The air was thick with the scent of money and the promise of something more.

You pushed Kylian to the couch with surprising strength, your eyes never leaving his. The fabric whispered against his skin as he settled into the embrace of the velvet, his expression a mix of excitement and curiosity. The private room was yours to command, and you knew exactly what to do with it. The music from the club pounded through the walls, setting the tempo for the dance that was about to unfold.

With the grace of a seasoned seductress, you began to strip away your layers. Each movement was deliberate, a tease that made his eyes follow the trail of your fingers. Your top fell away, revealing a lacy bra that barely contained the fullness of your breasts. His gaze lingered there, a silent plea for more, and you granted it, spinning to showcase your body's curves under the dim lights.

The music grew louder, a heartbeat that matched the rhythm of your hips as you danced closer to Kylian. You could see the desire etched on his face, a hunger that made your pulse quicken. Each step was a challenge, a promise of what was to come. Your skirt slid to the floor, leaving you in nothing but the scanty underwear that left little to the imagination.

With a seductive smile, you straddled his lap, your legs wrapping around him like a serpent coiling around its prey.

The warmth of his body was a stark contrast to the cool air of the room, and you relished the control you held over him.

Your breath hitched as you began to grind against him.

That control slipped away the moment you felt him.

You felt him, harder and larger than you had anticipated, straining against the fabric of his tailored pants. It was a pleasant surprise, one that sent a shiver of excitement down your spine.

In all the time you’d spent in this line of work, you’d never come across a man quite like Kylian.

As you moved against him, your body seemingly of its own accord, you felt the heat build within you. You were no stranger to the art of the tease, but there was something about his unabashed hunger that had you craving more.

Each rock of your hips sent a jolt of pleasure through your core, and you found yourself losing yourself in the dance, forgetting that this was a performance for his entertainment.

You felt his hands grip your hips, guiding you closer, urging you to grind harder against his growing erection. Your breath grew ragged, and you could feel the wetness between your thighs.

Kylian's smirk grew wider as he whispered, "Looks like you're the one enjoying this." His hand slid down your bare back, the heat of his palm sending shockwaves through your body. You met his gaze, a silent challenge in your eyes.

You didn’t just dance for the men; you danced for the power, the thrill of the hunt. But something about Kylian was different—his confidence, his unabashed desire, and the way he made you feel.

With a flick of your wrist, you began to undo the clasp of your bra. The fabric fell away, revealing your full breasts, the cool air nipping at your sensitive skin.

Your hand slid down to his waistband, your fingers lingering on the button of his pants. With a knowing smile, you deftly undid it, and the zipper whispered open. The anticipation in the room was thick, a palpable force that seemed to thrum through the air.

His cock sprang free, standing proud and thick between his legs, a testament to his arousal.

You knew you were breaking the rules, you knew you were pushing the limits, doing something you weren’t meant to.

Alejandro had made it clear—your job was to dance, keeping things strictly professional with the client fully clothed.

But with Kylian, there was something about him that made you want to throw the rules out the window.

He watched you with an intensity that made you feel like the most desirable woman on the planet. His hands traveled up your thighs, his thumbs brushing the sensitive skin just beneath the edge of your g-string. The heat of his touch was like a brand, leaving you marked, claimed.

You leaned in, your breasts grazing his chest as you whispered in his ear, "Is this what you want, Kylian?"

His breath hitched, his eyes never leaving yours as he replied, "More."

You slid off his lap, the loss of contact leaving a trail of electricity in its wake.

Turning your back to Kylian, you took your time with the g-string, the lacy fabric clinging to your hips before finally releasing its grip.

You bent over with deliberate slowness, giving him an ample view of your rounded ass and the soft curves of your back. The room grew quieter than you had ever heard it, the music from the club outside muffled by the thick walls and the thunder of your pulse in your ears.

You positioned yourself in front of him, straddling him once again but this time facing away. You felt his eyes widen, his breath quicken as you bent over, your hands planted firmly on his knees. The coolness of the room kissed your bare skin as you arched your back, your breasts bouncing slightly with the movement.

He wasted no time. Kylian’s strong hands reached around, cupping your breasts, his thumbs teasing your erect nipples. You bit your lip to stifle a moan, your eyes fluttering shut.

His touch was firm, possessive, sending waves of heat through your body. Then, without warning, his hand slid down to your ass, giving it a gentle smack. The sound echoed in the quiet room, a sharp contrast to the gentle caresses that had come before.

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze in the mirror. His pupils were dilated, his jaw clenched with need. You smirked, feeling the power shift in your favor. Slowly, you began to grind your bare sex against his cock again, feeling the thickness of him, the veins pulsing against your wetness.

With each rock of your hips, you could see the restraint in his face falter, the desire taking over. His hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he matched your rhythm.

And then, without warning, he grabbed you by the neck, pulling you towards him with a strength that was as surprising as it was exhilarating. You gasped as he yanked you closer, your back arching against his chest. The sudden change in dynamic made your heart race even faster, a thrill of danger mixed with the sweetness of power.

In the mirror, you saw the reflection of his cock, standing tall and proud against your cunt. Your own moan was a sweet symphony in the quiet room, a sound that seemed to resonate in every corner, amplifying the intensity of the moment.

"Bounce on my cock and I'll double your pay," Kylian murmured into your ear, his hands tightening around your neck. His breath was hot against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. You could feel the pulse of his erection, the heat of it begging for more.

You smirked, looking at him in the mirror.

"Triple." you countered, your voice steady and confident. The challenge in your eyes was clear.

Without a word, Kylian's grip tightened, and he positioned himself beneath you. The anticipation was almost unbearable, the air thick with it. He didn't need to guide you; your body knew exactly what to do. You hovered above him, feeling the tip of his erection pressing against your wetness, the promise of pleasure so close it was almost painful.

The tip of him alone was enough to make your toes curl, your eyes roll back. He groaned, his breath hot against your neck, and you felt his hands clench into fists as he fought to hold back.

You lowered yourself, the warmth of him spreading through your core as you took him in, inch by glorious inch. The room spun around you as you adjusted to his size, the pressure building like a crescendo in a symphony of pleasure.

Your eyes closed involuntarily, the sensation overwhelming, and your mouth formed an 'O' of surprise. Kylian was indeed more than you had expected, and you felt a thrill of excitement at the thought of what was to come. His grip on your neck tightened as you began to move, a silent reminder of who was in control.

The first few bounces were tentative, both of you feeling the newness of this connection. His cock stretched you, filled you in a way that made you feel both deliciously full and insatiably hungry for more. The sensation was exquisite, a delicate balance between pleasure and pain that you rode with the finesse of a seasoned performer.

With each downward thrust, your eyes fluttered shut, lost in the sensation of Kylian’s cock claiming your body. His size was a revelation, a symphony of sensation that sent your nerve endings into a frenzy of pleasure. The room around you melted away, leaving only the two of you in the dimly lit cocoon of the private room. The music from the club was a distant murmur, the cheers of his teammates a muffled echo in the back of your mind.

As you adjusted to the delicious stretch of him inside you, your movements grew erratic, driven by instinct rather than the practiced grace of your usual routine. Your breasts bounced with the rhythm, your nipples peaked and sensitive to every brush of fabric and gust of air. Kylian's hand on your neck held you firmly in place, a reminder of the power dynamics at play, while his other hand slid down your body to find your clit.

You gasped as his thumb began to circle the swollen bud, his touch surprisingly tender despite the firmness of his grip. The dual sensation of his cock filling you and his fingers teasing you was almost too much to handle. You felt your walls tighten around him, desperate for the release that was building with every stroke.

In the mirror, Kylian watched as his cock disappeared into the folds of your sex, only to reappear with a wet slap as you bounced back up. The sight was erotic, a visual testament to the power dynamics at play. You could see the hunger in his eyes, the need to claim you fully, but it was your own reflection that held your gaze—the way your body moved, the arch of your back, the way your breasts bobbed with each thrust. You were in control, even as his hands and his cock worked in tandem to drive you closer to the edge.

Suddenly, his grip shifted from your neck to your face, turning your head so that you had to look at him.

Kylian's eyes bore into yours, the smugness in them replaced with a primal need that made your knees weak. His lips crashed into yours, claiming your mouth with a hunger that was both thrilling and terrifying. You kissed him back, your teeth grazing his lower lip, tasting the mint from the drinks you had shared earlier. The kiss was messy, all tongues and teeth, a battle of dominance and submission.

As your bodies moved in unison, his hand guiding your hips, your moans grew louder, mingling with the muffled bass from the club outside. You felt him swell within you, his grip tightening as he approached his climax. You matched his pace, desperate to feel the explosion of pleasure that was building between your legs. His thumb circled your clit with increasing pressure, his other hand keeping your face angled towards his, the kiss growing more demanding with each passing second.

You could feel yourself losing control, your body begging for release. The pressure built, coiling in your belly. And then, it hit you—a wave of ecstasy so intense it took your breath away. Your cunt clenched around him, and you threw your head back, your cries echoing through the room. Kylian's own release followed closely behind, his body shuddering with the force of it.

For a moment, time stood still as you rode the crest of pleasure. His grip loosened, and you leaned into him, his warmth enveloping you. The room was a blur of lights and shadows, the music a distant throb that matched the rhythm of your pulse.

As the intensity of the orgasm began to wane, you felt your legs wobble, the muscles in your thighs protesting from the exertion of the dance you'd just shared.

You slowly slid off him, your legs shaking from the effort.

Kylian's grip on your hips was the only thing that kept you upright, his breath hot on your neck as he whispered sweet nothings in French, his accent thick with lust.

You looked down to see Kylian's cock, still hard and glistening with your wetness, the proof of your passionate performance.

The room spun around you, a kaleidoscope of color and light, the aftermath of the erotic dance you'd just shared.

He stepped away and stood up to pull his pants back on, the fabric whispering against his skin as he tucked himself away.

You took a moment to admire his physique, the power and grace of an athlete honed to perfection.

The sight of him doing up his zipper brought you back to reality with a jolt, the starkness of the act a stark contrast to the intimacy of the moment.

Kylian reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick wad of euros. You watched, your breath still ragged. He held out the money to you, but before you could take it, he bent down to kiss your forehead, his lips lingering just long enough to leave a warm imprint on your skin.

"Let's do it again sometime," he murmured, his voice a mix of satisfaction and a hint of something deeper, something that made your stomach flip. Then, with a final squeeze of your thigh, he stepped away, leaving you on the couch, naked and smiling.

happy new year 🥳

[ennkis]

FOOTBALL MASTERLIST ꩜.ᐟ

୨୧ - fluff , ♡ - smut , ☆ - angst , ꩜ - smau

FC BARCELONA

marc guiu (i will NOT change him to chelsea ..) :

super rich kids , pt.2- ୨୧ ꩜

- in which fans notice a familiar footballer in the likes of their favorite "super (humble) rich kid"

mr. lewandowski - ୨୧

- in which the polish barcelona player finds out his daughter is dating his teammate

hector fort :

plus one - ☆

- in which hector gets invited to a team event, which comes with a certain challenge

pablo gavi :

soon to be added !!

joao felix :

kisses to my exes - ୨୧ ꩜

- in which y/n & joão soft launch their relationship as a response to their exes dating rumors

JUVENTUS FC

kenan yildiz :

eye to eye - ୨୧

- in which y/n and a certain turkish-german football player dont see eye to eye

i'd be yours if you'd ask - ୨୧ ☆

- in which y/n ghosts the turkish footballer during their "situationship" whilst talking to another football player

REAL MADRID

jude bellingham :

yassified - ୨୧ ꩜

- in which y/n & jude share silly banter on social media

patriotic - ୨୧☆

- in which y/n is a true patriot to her country

kylian mbappé :

soon to be added !!

MANCHESTER UNITED

mason mount :

blue is the color - ୨୧

- in which y/n and mason argue about their newborn babys favorite football team

three's a party - ୨୧ ꩜

- in which the beloved couple announce they're expecting a baby

[camav1nga]

REAL MADRID yearly highlights | 2024 was good

[allgoodnamesrgoneee]

can you do one where kylian can’t stop touching reader?

Clingy

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — The one where he can't let you go

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Kylian Mbappé x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 5.2k

Warnings! FLUFF, Drunk!Kylian, he's super cute and sweet in this one, suggestive words but no smut, special Ashraf Hakimi appearance, I think that's it

It's 2:27 AM and you're getting tired.

You glance at your phone for what feels like the hundredth time, rereading Kylian’s last text from hours ago: "Don’t wait up, bébé. I’ll be home late. Love you."

You huff, your thumb hovering over the screen as you debate texting him again. You trust him completely, he’s out with Ashraf and some of the other guys on the team—but it's getting really late and he's usually home by now.

You sigh and toss the phone aside, deciding to just close your eyes and wait for him to get home.

The TV plays softly in the background, the sound filling the quiet living room as you lay curled up on the couch, wrapped in one of Kylian’s oversized hoodies. The faint smell of his cologne lingered on the fabric, giving you the slightest comfort as you fight the pull of sleep.

Just as your eyelids start to droop, a sharp knock at the door jolts you awake.

Frowning, you sit up.

Kylian has his keys—he wouldn’t knock.

Your heart skips a beat as you approach the door cautiously, the soft glow of the hallway light spilling through the crack underneath.

The knocking grows louder, and you can hear a muffled voice saying something, but you can't hear what it said.

Then the person knocks again.

You hesitate for a moment, wondering if you should answer it, and then you hear that voice again.

This time it's louder and clearer.

"Y/N! Come on, open up! He can’t walk!"

Ashraf Hakimi.

Confused, you pull the hoodie tighter around you, shuffling closer to the door and peering through the peephole. On the other side, you see Ashraf Hakimi holding a stumbling, clearly wasted, Kylian upright.

You quickly undo the lock and yank open the door.

“Thank fuck,” Hakimi exhales, voice heavy with relief and exasperation the second you pull the door open.

He looks as though he’s just run a marathon, his expression caught somewhere between amused and desperate, clearly eager to pass Kylian off to you. His hand tightens briefly on Kylian’s shoulder as if to keep him upright for just a few more seconds.

“Kylian?” you ask, your voice gentle but laced with confusion, eyes flicking between the two of them.

At the sound of your voice, Kylian’s head lolls forward like a puppet with its strings cut, only to jerk back up a moment later, his eyes brightening as he zeroes in on you.

“Bébé!” he cries out, his tone so boyishly elated it makes your heart clench, the way it always does when he looks at you like you hung the stars. Your name slurs off his tongue, a little wobbly, but it’s accompanied by the sweetest, most dazzling smile that spreads across his face like a sunrise, all teeth and crinkled eyes.

Your stomach dips in response, a warmth blooming in your chest that you can’t quite fight. For a moment, you forget the situation entirely, caught in the spell of how devastatingly soft he looks right now.

But before you can say another word, Kylian shrugs out of Hakimi’s grip with an unsteady lurch, his body tilting as though gravity itself is trying to take him down. He stumbles toward you in a half-drunk stagger, arms already reaching out like he’s afraid you might disappear.

You barely manage a surprised gasp as he throws himself at you, his weight nearly knocking you off balance. His arms wrap around your neck in a vice-like grip, his broad frame warm and solid against you despite the way he sways.

He smells like the club—of sweat, alcohol, and something fruity—and you don't even have to look at him to know that his skin is hot, flushed from the alcohol that’s coursing through his body like molten lava.

You can feel the heat of him, seeping into you through the thin layer of fabric between you.

Then he presses a kiss to your hairline—a messy, clumsy press of lips that lingers far too long to be neat but feels oddly reverent nonetheless.

“Je t'aime, bébé, tellement” he mumbles, the words thick with alcohol and affection as they spill against your temple, his breath warm on your skin. “I missed you so much. I’m home.”

His voice is soft, almost childlike, and it strikes something tender in you. Your heart melts all over again, the tension in your body slipping away as you sigh and hug him back.

“I love you too, baby,” you murmur, your tone light but edged with concern as you adjust your grip around his waist, steadying him against you.

You glance over his shoulder to where Hakimi stands, his arms crossed as he chuckles and shakes his head at you. "The man's in love,” he says with a snort, as though that explains everything.

You frown, slightly more concerned now than confused. “Did something happen?” you ask, brows furrowing as your eyes narrow at Hakimi. “How drunk is he?”

Hakimi shakes his head, an expression that’s caught somewhere between amusement and frustration crossing his face. "He's been asking for you all night," he tells you, a note of apology creeping into his tone. "And I’m pretty sure he’s more gone than he should be. We tried to get him to eat, but…” He trails off, hands lifting in a gesture of surrender that’s both helpless and fond.

You sigh, eyes flicking to where Kylian nuzzles against you, his grip as tight as ever despite the fact that his eyes are already drooping in the middle of a long exhale, his head lolling back into the curve of your shoulder. His arms tighten around you again in an uncoordinated jerk, his mouth finding your neck for another sloppy kiss.

“Alright. Thanks for briging him home” you reply, nodding, lips pressing into a thin line as you meet Hakimi’s gaze. “Are you okay to drive? Do you want me to call you an Uber?”

Hakimi’s smile is quick and bright, his mouth curling at the corners as he waves you off. “It’s fine,” he replies with a quick headshake. “My driver is waiting outside. But I’ll call you tomorrow to check in, yeah?” The question is directed at you but his eyes move to Kylian.

You nod, smiling softly, "Yeah, okay.”

“Alright, goodnight,” he calls out, tipping his chin at you both.

The front door shuts behind him seconds later, and you shift Kylian more fully into your arms as you turn to carry him inside.

“Come on, baby, let’s get you inside.”

Kylian doesn’t reply, just nuzzles his face further into the crook of your neck, his lips finding your skin and pressing a kiss there, the stubble on his cheek scratching you gently.

You make it to the couch without any mishaps, sinking onto the worn cushion with him still in your arms, his heavy weight solid against you. You hold him there for a few minutes, running a soothing hand up and down his back as he shudders, his whole body vibrating with the force of his emotions.

“Hey,” you try to reassure him, your tone soft and calm, “what happened?”

“Just…just so happy,” he mumbles after a minute, his tone utterly euphoric. “I love you so much, Y/N.”

“I love you too,” you tell him again, smiling as you tip your head to meet his eyes. They’re glassy and bright, swimming with emotion, and you feel a little tug in your chest.

“I know,” he breathes out, smile softening. “I just… I miss you when we’re apart, okay? That’s all. I'm sorry I'm-I'm always g-gone.” He slurs and hiccups as he says the last part.

Your heart tugs in your chest, and you nod, reaching up to smooth his hair. “I know, it's okay” you tell him. “I miss you too.”

He hums in response, the noise soft and low in his chest. For a moment he simply nuzzles his cheek against your palm, his eyes drifting shut as he relaxes back into your arms.

But then a few seconds later, his eyes flutter open again. He's still smiling at you, his mouth tipped up in a goofy grin. “Bébé,” he murmurs again, voice husky and affectionate, his eyes squinting adoringly at you.

“Yeah?” you prompt after a minute, because he just stares at you for long seconds like he can’t look away.

“T'es vraiment belle, tu sais? I'm so lucky.” His voice drops, grows quiet as he speaks.

You feel a flutter in your chest, but then you shake your head, your lips twitching into a smile. “Kylian, bébé, you’re drunk, let’s go to bed” you say instead, dodging the topic.

Kylian’s face scrunches up for a moment as though he doesn’t understand what you're saying. Then his eyebrows rise, and his mouth falls open.

He looks affronted, the picture of scandalized drunkenness. “Non!” he protests, voice loud and outraged as though you've suggested something truly heinous. “I don’t wanna sleep! I wanna…” His brows furrow. He frowns for a moment, as though he can't remember what he wants.

Then his eyes light up. “I wanna fuck you,” He rasps the words against your skin, nuzzling his face into your neck with another long exhale.

He tries to move his mouth up to yours, but misses by a good few centimeters, his lips pressing against the hollow of your throat instead.

Your breath catches at the feel of his mouth on you, his warm lips dragging against your skin.

But you shake yourself out of the daze that threatens to pull you under at his touch, reaching down to cup his chin and tip his head back until he's staring up at you once again. His eyes are glazed, his cheeks pink, and his lips look swollen.

He looks like he wants to devour you whole.

But instead of giving in, you try again, your smile soft but firm. “Baby, you're drunk,” you repeat.

He shakes his head. “Non! I'm not” He repeats his protest, his voice adamant and thick with a slur. "I just…” He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing as his eyes drop from yours to stare at your mouth.

His tongue darts out, wetting his lips in an unconscious gesture that makes your stomach flip in your abdomen. Then his eyes move back up to yours and his face crumples, the look of pure distress on his features making you chuckle.

“Bébé, s’il vous plaît?” he begs. “J'ai besoin de toi. Je suis tellement…” His voice is anguished, like he's holding himself back. the strain in his tone making your breath catch. “I want you so bad, tresor,” he slurs. “so bad.”

He leans forward then, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks, his eyes dark and intense as they find yours.

“Je t'aime tellement, it hurts, bébé,” he confesses, his words a messy slur of French and English that make your breath catch. He's not making any sense but you understand him.

You nod, but his arms tighten around you, and he nuzzles your neck, planting sloppy kisses along your jaw. "I love you, you know that? You’re my everything. Mon cœur."

"Yes, I know," you say, cupping his face to look him in the eye. His chocolate-brown gaze is glassy, but the sincerity in his words melts you. "I love you too, but you need water. And maybe food. Come on, let's get you something to eat. "

His brows draw together at first, a flicker of thought crossing his face, but then a wide, knowing smirk spreads across his lips, lighting up his features in a way that makes your heart stutter. “You’re right,” he murmurs, his voice low and dripping with heat. His gaze, dark and smoldering, locks onto you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. “I am hungry,” he continues, leaning just a little closer, his tone laced with wicked intent. “For you.”

You let out a long-suffering sigh, though the way your lips twitch betrays your amusement. “Kylian…” you begin, your voice edged with a mix of exasperation and fondness.

“Oui?” he interjects smoothly, cutting you off before you can even finish. His eyes, impossibly large and impossibly dark, seem to glitter with mischief as he looks at you, completely unfazed by your scolding tone. For a moment, you falter, caught off guard by the sheer intensity of his expression.

“Come on,” you manage at last, your voice softening despite yourself. You shake your head, trying to regain some semblance of control over the situation. “Let’s get you food first, then we’ll get you to bed.” You’re firm but your voice is more gentle than you intended, your gaze soft on him.

Kylian beams up at you like you’re the sun itself, and nods, his expression serious as he tries to pull back. But he ends up swaying a little, his legs tangled in yours and his arms around your neck. His eyebrows draw together, and he looks a bit dizzy for a minute.

But then he swallows hard and tries again, managing to untangle himself with a huff. This time, his smile is sheepish when he meets your eyes. “Whatever you say, bébé.”

“Okay,” you say with slight chuckle. You shift out of his arms, standing as you offer him your hand.

Kylian takes it with a warm smile, rising to his feet unsteadily. The action seems to take a lot out of him—he staggers a little on the way up, his knee bumping your thigh. And when he’s finally standing, his hand grips yours tight, as though he needs your support to keep himself upright.

You nod at him, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze before leading him into the kitchen.

He trails behind you like a lost puppy, following you without question and looking vaguely disoriented whenever you glance back at him.

When you reach the kitchen, you slide onto one of the stools, gesturing for him to take the one across from you.

“Sit down and let me get you something,” you instruct. You nod at the stool opposite, watching as he lowers himself into it, his movements slow and clumsy.

“Merci, bébé,” he mumbles as his back hits the stool, a look of relief crossing his face.

You smile at him warmly as you turn toward the fridge. “You’re welcome,” you tell him, opening the door to peer inside.

He's silent for a minute, watching you with a sort of childlike fascination. Then, when you bend down to pull out the eggs, his voice calls out again.

"Nice ass,” he says, his tone full of appreciation. "You have the best ass." He slurs the words, sounding more than a little drunk and awed.

You let out a startled laugh at that, your hand stalling in its reach for the pan. Your head tips up to meet his gaze, your smile stretching wide across your lips.

"Thank you," you tell him with a chuckle, cheeks flushing lightly at his praise.

But he just laughs, his face alight with a radiant grin. His voice takes on an almost conversational quality, like you're not standing in your kitchen at 2:53 in the morning talking about your ass. “Do you know how many times I've jacked off to it?” he asks, sounding utterly sincere. His brow furrows. “Maybe hundreds?”

Your breath catches, and you let out another laugh, a little more helpless this time. Your body flushes, heat rising in your cheeks as you fumble a bit with the pan, your gaze darting to his to gauge his reaction. His eyes are wide and earnest, his grin still soft on his face as he watches you.

You shake your head, the motion a little helpless. “Kylian,” you say again, letting out another laugh as you try to ignore the fluttering in your stomach.

But instead of relenting, he just grins harder, his expression one of pure adoration. “What? It's the truth, bébé!” He leans forward, his elbows hitting the counter as he braces his body with his arms, his gaze still fixed intently on you. “You're so beautiful, I just want to eat you up,” he mumbles then, his tone filled with a thick slur and a wealth of affection.

Your face burns, and you try to look away, but it's hard to ignore the way his voice makes you feel. Like you're the only person in the world.

“Baby…” you try to chide him, but he's having none of it.

“I’m serious,” he protests, his brow furrowing in a scowl as he slides off his stool. He sways a little as he makes his way over to you, but you barely have time to register his movement before he's sliding his arms back around your waist, his chest warm against your back. “You have no idea, do you?” he asks, his breath a gentle caress on your neck as his lips find the slope of your shoulder.

Your stomach tenses under his grip, but your hands pause in their reach for the eggs, your body leaning back into his. “No idea about what?” you murmur softly.

His arms tighten around your middle, squeezing you gently against him as his nose nudges your hair out of the way. You can feel his breath against your neck as he inhales, his lips skating across your skin with a featherlight touch.

“How gorgeous you are,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice warm and thick. He exhales again, the air drifting against your skin in a caress that makes your whole body shiver. “How much I love you.”

You turn in his arms then, reaching up to cup his cheeks with your palms. He looks down at you, his dark eyes soft and fond, his features more boyish than anything else right now.

You smile up at him, running your thumbs over his cheekbones in a soothing stroke. “I know,” you say, your voice soft, but firm. “I love you too. So much.”

A brilliant grin spreads across his face at your words, his gaze going soft with adoration as he gazes down at you. “Je t'aime,” he whispers, his tone full of conviction and emotion. “Plus que tout.” His eyes meet yours, and you can see the sincerity, his feelings plain on his face.

Then his arms are wrapping around your back, pulling you tight against him.

“Plus que tout,” you repeat, nodding as you lean up on your toes to kiss him.

He meets you halfway, his mouth moving over yours in a warm, wet kiss that makes your heart flutter in your chest. His lips are soft, and gentle, and they move against yours in a kiss that’s more affection than anything else.

Then you're pulling back, and he's letting out a long exhale, as though the act of breathing itself is exhausting.

You glance up to find his eyes still closed, a look of utter contentment on his face. He doesn’t look drunk anymore; he looks like he's floating.

But then his eyes blink open, glazed and in love making you smile at him, feeling your heart nearly explode at the love you have for this man. “Salut,” he murmurs softly. His hands cup your cheeks again, tilting your face up toward his as he leans down to press another kiss to your lips. “You're mine.”

You nod, smiling up at him again as you slip your arms around his waist. “Yes I am,” you repeat. “Now sit down so I can get you some food.”

Kylian nods, his smile still soft on his lips as he does as you ask, sliding back onto the stool he vacated earlier.

You turn to the stove then, pulling the eggs onto the counter and moving to the fridge for milk as he stares after you with wide, affectionate eyes.

You work quickly, but efficiently, moving through the motions of making him scrambled eggs without a hitch. It's not hard, and in a matter of minutes, you've got a plate of fluffy yellow eggs slid in front of him along with a glass of milk.

He grins at you, a bit more subdued this time as he digs in. His eyes still follow you around the kitchen as you move, but there’s a hungry gleam in them now that’s more interested in the food than anything else.

You smile at that, taking a seat on the stool next to him as you watch him eat. “How’s that?”

“Mmm,” he mumbles around his mouthful of eggs, nodding, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he swallows. “That’s really good. Merci, bébé.” He smiles, grateful.

You hum in response, smiling softly as you nod back at him.

His shoulders sag a little as he eats, but when he finishes, he still looks a little unsteady as he pushes the plate away. His mouth twists up into a sheepish grimace. “You're the best cook. Never leave me,” he mumbles, the last part coming out thick and slurred.

You laugh at that, leaning over to take his plate. “I won’t,” you reassure him. “Not unless you leave first.”

His eyes dart towards you with shock, as if offended you would even suggest such a thing. “Jamais,” he replies, his voice full of a fierce denial.

“Okay,” you murmur, your voice gentle, barely above a whisper. Your hand reaches out, fingertips brushing softly over his hair, gliding across his scalp with a touch so light it feels like a caress. “You ready to go to bed now?”

He nods immediately, his answer quick and eager, as though the very idea of rest, as long as it’s with you, is the best thing he’s heard all day. His lips curve into a bright, unrestrained smile, one that lights up his whole face. “Oui,” he agrees, his voice filled with quiet enthusiasm. “Only if you're coming too.”

Your heart warms at his words, and you offer him a small, reassuring smile. “Of course,” you say simply, extending your hand to him.

Kylian doesn’t hesitate. His smile grows wider, impossibly so, as he reaches for you, his fingers slipping into yours with a natural ease. He holds your hand firmly, as he pushes himself to his feet.

This time, he manages to stand without much trouble, though his movements are still clumsy, a slight stumble here and there. But you’re there to steady him, your hand leading him gently out of the kitchen, guiding him down the hallway to your shared room.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs, his voice soft, almost hesitant, like he’s laying his heart bare with those few words. They hit you squarely in the chest, a rush of emotion tightening your stomach and twisting your heart. He's been saying it all night but this time it’s almost too much to bear.

Your fingers tighten around his in response, a small squeeze that says everything words can’t. “I love you too,” you reply, your voice just as quiet, just as honest. “But let’s get some sleep, okay?”

“Okay, trésor,” he answers without hesitation, his head dipping slightly as he leans into your touch. There’s a tenderness to his movement, a reliance, as though your presence is the only thing keeping him steady.

You nod, saying nothing more, and continue guiding him, step by step, until you both reach the sanctuary of your bedroom.

As soon as you open the door, Kylian all but collapses onto the bed, his body sinking into the mattress like it’s a cloud ready to catch him.

He stretches out across the sheets, limbs sprawled in utter contentment, a quiet sigh escaping his lips. It’s a sound of pure relief, one that fills the room as you watch him settle, his smile still lingering even as his eyes flutter closed.

He looks so relaxed and peaceful it makes you feel bad for the words coming out of your mouth, but you say them anyway. “Babe, you have to change.”

“Non, bébé,” he groans, his head rolling to the side as he opens his eyes, a sliver of dark brown peeking out from under thick lashes. “I’m good,” he mutters. His tone is low, like even the act of speaking is a chore. “Sleep now.”

You smile softly at that, reaching for the hem of his shirt. “You can sleep, just let me help you get out of these first, okay? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable in the morning.” You’ve seen him before when he passes out drunk in his clothes; it’s not pretty.

His eyes crack open a little wider at that, and his mouth drops open in a soft protest. But then a slow smile spreads across his features, a soft sound of agreement escaping his lips. “Okay.” His head tips back, eyelids falling shut again as he raises his arms above his head.

“Good,” you say quietly, your hands moving to strip him of his clothes.

He’s easy to undress, not putting up much resistance as you slide his shirt up and over his head. His undershirt follows soon after, and you pause, just for a moment, to appreciate the hard planes of his torso.

He really is gorgeous, you can’t help thinking, your gaze drinking him in. Tall and lean, with broad shoulders that taper down into toned hips, he’s perfect.

Looking at you like you're the answer to every prayer he’s ever whispered, his smile so dazzling and pure that it makes your chest ache. “You’re the best, bébé,” he declares, his voice thick with emotion as he leans forward to press a kiss to your collarbone. “The absolute best.”

You sigh again, biting back a smile as you maneuver him to sit upright on the bed. His long legs splay out in front of him, his posture utterly relaxed in the way only someone completely plastered can manage. He watches you with a sort of drunken adoration that makes your stomach flutter and your cheeks warm under the intensity of his gaze.

“Wait here,” you say, patting his knee gently as you straighten up. “I’ll grab you something to wear.”

But the second you step away, his hand darts out to grab yours, his fingers curling around your wrist with surprising strength. You turn back to him, startled, and his face is suddenly heartbreakingly serious.

“Don’t go,” he pleads softly, his eyes wide and imploring, his bottom lip jutting out just enough to make him look like a kicked puppy. “I need you here.”

“Kylian,” you murmur, your voice caught somewhere between affectionate and exasperated. You lean down slightly, brushing your free hand against his cheek, melting when he leans into the touch. “I’m just going to the closet. I’ll be right back, I promise.”

He pouts, his brows furrowing like a sulky child. “But what if you don’t come back?” His voice is small, his grip tightening just slightly as if the thought alone terrifies him.

Your heart softens instantly. “I’ll always come back,” you tell him, the promise slipping from your lips without a second thought. You kneel down in front of him, cupping his face with both hands so that he has no choice but to meet your gaze. “Always.”

For a moment, he just stares at you, his big brown eyes shimmering with emotion. Then, slowly, a small, sleepy smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Always?” he repeats, his voice so quiet it’s barely more than a whisper.

You nod. “Always.”

He seems satisfied with that, finally letting go of your wrist with a little sigh of contentment. “Okay,” he murmurs, leaning back against the pillows with his eyes already fluttering shut. “But hurry, okay? I don’t like being without you.”

Your chest aches with affection as you press a quick kiss to his forehead before making your way to his closet. As you rummage through the racks, grabbing him some sweatpants and a shirt, you can’t help but smile to yourself.

When you return, Kylian is half-asleep, his head lolling to one side and his mouth slightly open. But the moment he hears your footsteps, his eyes snap open, and he sits up straighter, his expression lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning.

“You came back!” he exclaims, his voice slurred but filled with unrestrained joy.

“Of course I did,” you reply with a soft laugh, setting the clothes down on the bed in front of him. “Now get dressed, mon amour, before you pass out entirely.”

He grins at you, picking up the shirt with a clumsy hand and pulling it over his head with an endearing lack of coordination.

By the time he’s struggling with the sweatpants, you’ve moved to help him, slipping them over his legs and sliding your hands up the soft cotton of his shirt as you do.

“Merci,” he mumbles softly, his voice filled with gratitude as you help him settle in under the covers.

You lean over to press a kiss to his temple, but instead of letting you go, his arms wrap around your neck, pulling you back for a deeper, more meaningful kiss.

He sighs against your lips, a soft exhalation of pure contentment that fills your chest with warmth. When he pulls away, it's just enough to speak, his voice breathy “Trésor,” he says suddenly, his voice soft and serious as his dart back and forth into yours. You raise a brow at him in question.

“I meant what I said,” he continues, his gaze locking onto yours with surprising clarity for someone so inebriated. “You’re my everything. My whole world.”

Your throat tightens, and you can only nod, unable to find the words to respond. Instead, you lean forward, pressing another kiss to his lips.

“Je t'aime,” you murmur against them.

He hums back in response, his arms wrapping around your neck to pull you down closer, his lips moving over yours in a kiss so warm it sets your entire body aflame.

You’re breathless by the time you pull away. But instead of continuing to press the advantage, Kylian lets out another sigh, his eyelids drooping shut again as his head falls back on the pillow. He grins at you lazily, his voice slurring. “You’re so beautiful.”

You laugh. “So are you,” you reply, standing up with a smile. “Now sleep.”

His smile softens, his lashes drifting to half-mast as his body relaxes against the mattress. “Je t'aime, bébé,” he murmurs one last time, the words slipping out almost inaudibly.

“I love you too.” Your response is automatic, heartfelt.

But he’s already out, his breathing slow and even as you slip off your clothes, pulling on the tee shirt he tossed aside earlier to wear as pajamas.

When you slide into bed next to him, his arm curls immediately around your waist, drawing you into his chest with a sleepy sigh.

You settle in beside him, your back to his chest, your heart filling with affection as his chin rests against the slope of your neck. It’s not long before your eyelids droop, the warmth of his body and the rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

Just as you drift off, you’re dimly aware of a mumbled voice, the softness of his words making your heart flutter even as it slows your breathing.

“I can't wait to marry you.”

-Bianca🌻

[mbebe-fc]

(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

[the-offside-rule]

Kylian Mbappe (Paris-Saint Germain) - Midnight

Requested: yes

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

Warnings: nope

Baby Prompts

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

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

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

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