Do You Write Angst ?

Do you write angst ?

yes I do

Hey! Can you do a Kylian imagine with a heavily pregnant reader who is having a hard time with her pregnancy. Just lots of fluff & supportive Kylian please

Baby Blues

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — Your husband loves taking care of you, especially now that you're pregnant

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Husband!Kylian Mbappé x Wife!you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 3.5k

Warnings! Fluff, soft Kylian, tough pregnancy, eating problems, insecurities, sad reader, Kylian being the best husband ever.

Pregnancy was a scam.

A total scam. There were so many things that were a surprise to you once you actually were pregnant, but one of the biggest surprises to me was just how hard it was on your body. It wasn't like you didn't think it would be hard. But this was hell.

Kylian and you had been trying for a year, and when you finally got the positive pregnancy test, you thought everything would be okay. You thought it would be a normal pregnancy and then you'd be able to hold your little baby in your arms.

But it was just too hard.

The morning sickness had been terrible. It didn't just stay in the mornings, and you'd been puking so much that you'd lost weight instead of gaining it. Something which which had your doctors and Kylian worried.

It'd gotten to the point where you couldn't even eat any more. The smell of food would make you sick. It made you sick just to think about it. You'd tried to hide it from Kylian at first. You didn't want to worry him, and you knew he was already worrying.

He'd always worried about you. He'd worried about you since the moment he met you, and he was going to continue to worry about you for the rest of his life.

It was sweet. It really was.

But sometimes, you just wished he'd stop worrying. Worrying so much was making him tired, and you knew he was going to be a father soon. He needed to get some sleep. So did you. You sighed and sat up in bed, looking around the dark room. The sun had barely risen. You could hear Kylian's snores coming from the other side of the bed. It made you smile.

You threw off the covers and stood up, heading to the bathroom. You weren't sure what time it was, but you were hoping it was close to breakfast time. Your stomach growled at the thought of food. You hoped that you could keep something down today.

Maybe some toast.

You opened the bathroom door and stepped inside, flipping on the light. The bathroom was large, and the shower was huge. There were multiple heads, so you could be pummeled with water from all angles. It was heavenly, sometimes being to keep your morning sickness at bay. The pressure feeling so good on your skin.

You flipped on the light and looked in the mirror. The girl looking back at you looked terrible. She was pale and thin and tired. You could the insecurities licking up your spine. How could he still love you when you looked like this.

You sighed and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water flow down your body. You moaned at the pressure of the jets your skin, and your eyes closed. You tried to ignore the thoughts racing through your head, but you just couldn't.

Why was he still with you? You were nothing like the girl he met. You were thin and tired and just plain ugly.

You tried to shake the thoughts away as you washed yourself off. When you were done, you stepped out and wrapped yourself in a towel. You brushed your teeth, making sure your breath smelled good and not like puke.

When you were done, you left the bathroom and headed to the bedroom. You pulled out a pair of shorts and Kylian's sweatshirt. You slipped them on and walked back to the kitchen.

You stopped in your tracks when you saw what was set up in the kitchen. There were flowers all over the table, and breakfast was made. Kylian was sitting at the table, sipping a cup of coffee. He looked up when he saw you.

When did he wake up? Why hadn't you heard him? And why did he look better than you did.

"Hey," he smiled at you. "I thought I'd make you breakfast. I didn't know what you were craving, so I made pancakes and eggs." He stood up and pulled out a chair for you. "I hope it's okay."

tears welled up in your waterline at his gesture. Fuck thses hormones. But you couldn't help it. Not when he was such a good husband, so good to you. He deserved better. He deserved the girl he fell in love with.

"It's perfect," your voice was shaky, so you masked it with a smile. "Thank you, babe."

He walked over to you, pulling you into a hug, his warmth melting you. "I'm glad you like it," he kissed the top of your head. "I missed you so much yesterday. I'm sorry I wasn't here for dinner." He pulled back and studied your face. "Are you okay? You were in the bathroom pretty long. Got me worried, pretty girl." Pretty girl. Yeah right. More like fat whale. You wanted to cry.

You nodded, letting him pull you down into a chair. "I'm good," you lied, forcing a smile. "I was just so tired last night. I didn't want to wake you up."

He nodded and kissed the top of your head again. He went back to the kitchen and brought you a plate of pancakes and eggs, along with a cup of tea. You smiled up at him and dug in. It was good. Really good.

He was a good cook. But you didn't want to eat much. You were terrified of getting sick in front of him. He'd been so stressed lately, and you didn't want him to worry more about you.

You took a few bites and then put the fork down, pushing your plate away. "Thank you," you said. "It was really good."

His eyes narrowed, studying your face. You knew you were lying. But you were good at it. Or at least, you thought you were.

He leaned over and grabbed your hands into his. He made sure he was eye level with you, his eyes searching yours. You met them and held his gaze. "Tell me the truth," he said.

"I don't want to eat," you said, your voice low. You hated lying to him. You always felt terrible after doing it. But he didn't need to know about how bad it was. He was stressed enough.

His face softened, and his hands squeezed yours. "Pretty girl, why won't you tell me?" His voice was soft and sweet. He really was such a good husband.

You shrugged your shoulders. You couldn't look at him. If you did, you knew you'd cry. "I just don't want to eat," you mumbled.

He sighed and leaned forward, grabbing your face into his hands. He made sure you looked at him before speaking. "You are my wife," he said, voice low and husky. "My wife, the mother of my child, and my best friend. I love you, and I'm so proud of you. But I can't be there for you if you don't tell me the truth. I need to know what's going on with you. I need to take care of you."

You wanted to cry at his words, at his softness. How could he love you so much when you were such a mess?

"I don't want to worry you," you said, your voice breaking. "You're already so stressed."

His eyes softened, and he pulled you into his arms. You went willingly, letting his warmth melt you. His arms were your happy place, and you knew you'd always be safe with him. He kissed the top of your head and held you close, stroking your hair. You breathed in his scent. It made you feel at peace.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice low. "I love you so much. You don't have to worry about me. I need to take care of you."

You sighed and nodded against him. "I'm sorry," you said. "I just can't eat right now. The smell of food makes me sick. I haven't eaten in days."

He held you closer, his arms tightening around you. He kissed the top of your head again and sighed. "I'm going to call a doctor," he said. "We'll figure this out, okay?"

You nodded against him and smiled. "Okay."

He pulled away and stood up, helping you stand. "Let's go back to bed," he said. "I'll call the doctor from there."

You nodded, letting him lead you back to the bedroom. You climbed into bed and watched him pick up the phone. He dialed a number and pressed send, holding the phone to his ear. You could hear the ringing of the other line.

He looked at you as he talked, his eyes soft. You could see the worry in them, but it only made you love him more. He was always so worried about you. You wanted to make it better, to make him not worry.

He hung up the phone and tossed it onto the bed. He sat next to you and took your hand into his. "I called the doctor," he said. "He said to bring you in to see him. I'm going to call his office now and tomorrow we're going, okay?."

You nodded and squeezed his hand. "I love you," you said, your voice low. He squeezed your hand back and leaned forward to kiss your lips. His lips were warm and gentle against yours. You sighed into his mouth and let him take control.

He kissed you deeper, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You moaned as he pulled away. You wanted more. But he just smiled and stood up, his phone in hand.

"I love you," he said. "I'll be right back."

You nodded and snuggled under the covers, closing your eyes. You knew you weren't going to fall asleep. Not with all the thoughts swirling through your head. You sighed and turned over, trying to clear your mind. You couldn't. Not when you kept thinking about how he'd said he was so proud of you.

It made you want to cry. He loved you. He truly, truly loved you. He was proud of you. You felt like you were anything but strong. But he still loved you. He still thought you were strong. That made you smile.

You sighed and rolled over, closing your eyes. You let your thoughts run away with you as you drifted off to sleep.

You woke up to Kylian shaking your shoulder. He had a smile on his face and looked so happy. You smiled up at him and sat up (with great difficulty), rubbing your eyes. "hi, beautiful," he said. "Get up the masseuse will be here soon."

You blinked up at him. What was he talking about? Who was the masseuse? He chuckled and ran a hand through your hair. "I thought it would be nice to have a spa day at home," he said. "I got you some scented oils and candles, and I hired a massage therapist. I thought it would help you relax." He smiled at you, his eyes soft. "Plus, I thought it would be nice to spend the day together. We can talk more about everything that's going on."

You wanted to cry at his words, at his sweetness. He was such a good husband, and you loved him so much. He always wanted to take care of you, and he wanted to be there for you.

"Okay," you whispered, voice raspy with sleep. He grabbed your hand and squeezed it. His eyes softened, and he kissed your lips. "Come on, babe," he said. "Let's get ready."

He stood and pulled you up with him. You wobbled on your feet, and he chuckled, his hands going to your hips. "Easy," he said. "I've got you." He held you close until you could stand on your own. Then, he let you go, only to grab your hand again. He led you out of the room, to the living room. You stopped in your tracks when you saw what was set up.

He had candles lit all around the room, and the scents of lavender filled your nose. There were towels and oils set up on a table, and the windows were open so there was a nice breeze. It was warm but not too hot.

"This is amazing," you said, smiling at him. He chuckled and kissed the top of your head. "I'm glad you like it," he said. "I wanted it to be perfect for you." He ran his hand down your back. "Now sit here and don't move." He instructed, as he helped you sit on the couch. A task that was now getting more and more difficult for you as your pregnancy moved along.

You nodded and sat down, watching him leave. You could hear him talking to someone on the phone, Then a few minutes later you heard the front door open.

"Hey," you heard him say. "Thanks for coming. She's on the couch. You can go ahead and set up."

You heard the front door shut, and then footsteps coming closer. You turned your head to see a woman coming towards you with him. She was gorgeous, with long brown hair and brown eyes. She was wearing a black top with what you guesse was her spa logo and black pants.

You hated the way your mind immediately went to wondering how you measured up to her. You felt like a fat whale, and she looked perfect. Kylian wouldn't be attracted to her, would he?

You sighed and forced your mind away from those thoughts. They were not healthy.

"Hey," Kylian said, walking over to you. "This is Ashley. She's the massage therapist I was telling you about."

You mustered a smile and smiled at her , trying to push aside your insecurities. Ashley returned the smile warmly, introducing herself and offering a handshake. Despite your initial self-doubt, you couldn't deny the genuine kindness in her eyes.

It made you feel horrible for the negative thoughts you had about her. You felt like a horrible person.

Ashley began setting up her equipment, chatting lightly with Kylian. You felt a pang at the smile he gave her. You knew you were being ridiculous. Kylian smiled at everyone. But in that moment you couldn't help but wonder if he wished he had a woman who was more like her.

"Y/N, baby are you okay? You spaced out." You blinked, bringing yourself back to the present. Kylian's voice was filled with concern, his eyes searching your face. You nodded quickly, trying to shake off the lingering doubts. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just a bit tired," you mumbled, offering a small smile.

He returned your smile, though the worry in his eyes didn't dissipate. He leaned down and kissed your forehead, his lips warm and comforting. "Just relax, pretty girl. Ashley is here to help you feel better."

You took a deep breath and nodded again. Ashley finished setting up and approached you with a kind smile. "We're going to start with a gentle massage, okay? If anything feels uncomfortable, just let me know."

You appreciated her calm demeanor and found yourself relaxing slightly. You lay down on the soft towels she had prepared, and Ashley began her work. The scents of lavender and chamomile filled the air, mingling with the gentle pressure of her hands on your aching muscles.

For the first time in a while, you felt a semblance of peace. Kylian sat nearby, watching over you with a protective gaze. You loved this side of him. Loved when he watched over you like he would do anything to keep you safe. He would.

You knew a long time ago you had picked the right man to be the father of your children. But everyday he makes you a little prouder of that decision. You couldn't wait to meet your baby. To watch him interact with her.

You had already gotten glipmses of their bond. How she would kick at the sound of his voice. How he would talk to your belly, whispering sweet promises and silly jokes. You knew he would be an amazing father, just as he was an incredible husband.

As Ashley continued the massage, you felt some of the tension in your body ease away. The soothing touch and the warm oils worked their magic, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to simply be. To exist in the present, without the weight of worries and fears pressing down on you.

Kylian sat close, every now and then, he would reach out to gently stroke your hair or squeeze your hand, silently reassuring you that he was there, that he had you.

"You're doing great, Y/N," Ashley said softly, her voice blending seamlessly with the calming ambiance of the room. "Just breathe and let yourself relax."

You followed her instructions, taking slow, deep breaths. With each exhale, you felt more of the stress melt away. The soft music playing in the background, the fragrant candles, and the tender care of both Kylian and Ashley created a bubble of tranquility that you hadn't felt in a long time.

Time seemed to slow down as the massage continued. You could almost forget the relentless nausea, the fatigue. You could even feel yourself getting a little hungry.

When the massage finally ended, you felt a profound sense of relief. Ashley helped you sit up slowly, her hands gentle and supportive. "How do you feel?" she asked with a warm smile.

"Better," you admitted, surprised at how true the word felt. "Thank you, Ashley. This was exactly what I needed."

"I'm glad I could help," she replied. "Remember to take it easy and stay hydrated. If you need anything else, don't hesitate to reach out." She patted your shoulder one more time before getting up.

As Ashley packed up her things and left, Kylian was by your side in an instant, helping you stand and guiding you back to the couch. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. "Do you feel better now, baby?" he asked softly, his eyes full of concern.

You nodded, resting your head against his chest. "Yes, much better," you whispered, feeling a sense of calm you hadn't experienced in weeks. "Thank you for this. It was perfect."

He smiled and kissed the top of your head. "You deserve it, Y/N. I just want to see you happy and healthy. And I know it's hard right now, but we're going to get through this together. Okay?"

You looked up at him, tears welling up in your eyes again, but this time, they were tears of gratitude and love. "Okay," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. "I love you, Kylian. So much."

"I love you too," he replied, holding you even tighter. "Now, are you hungry?"

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you could handle eating. But the massage had genuinely helped, and you felt a glimmer of appetite returning. "A little," you admitted.

Kylian's face lit up with a hopeful smile. "Great! How about a cheese sandwhich? Nice and simple, just the way you like it."

You nodded, feeling a bit more confident. "Sounds good."

He kissed your forehead and stood up, heading to the kitchen. You watched him move with a grace that seemed effortless, and it warmed your heart. The man you loved was doing everything he could to make this easier for you, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude.

As you waited, you let yourself relax further into the couch, savoring the lingering sense of tranquility from the massage. The lavender scent still hung in the air, and you breathed it in deeply, feeling more at peace than you had in days.

Kylian returned shortly with the cheese sandwhich and a small cup of tea. He set it down on the coffee table in front of you and handed you a piece of the sandwhich. "Here you go, trésor."

You took the bread and nibbled on it cautiously. To your relief, the plain taste of cheese and bread was gentle on your stomach, and you managed a few more bites without feeling nauseous. Kylian watched you with a mixture of hope and concern, his eyes never leaving your face.

"This is good," you said softly, giving him a small smile. "Thank you."

He smiled back, the relief evident in his eyes. "I'm glad. You need to eat, even if it's just a little bit at a time."

You finished the toast and sipped on the tea, feeling a little more like yourself. The warmth of the tea spread through your body, soothing you from the inside out. You leaned back against the couch, feeling content in this small moment of normalcy.

Kylian sat down beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. You snuggled into his side, feeling his steady heartbeat against your cheek. It was a simple comfort, but it meant the world to you.

"Thank you for everything," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He kissed the top of your head and held you tighter. "You don't have to thank me, Y/N. I'm just doing what I promised. To love you and take care of you, no matter what."

You closed your eyes, letting his words wash over you. Despite the challenges, despite the sickness and the doubts, you knew you were in this together. And in that moment, wrapped in his embrace, you felt peace beyond comprihension.

The road ahead might be tough, but with Kylian by your side, you knew you could face anything.

-Bianca🌻

Hello Bianca! I'm the Virgil anon who requested the smut. Thank you so much! I really enjoyed it 👏🏾🫶🏾💕 you definitely feed the Virgil girlies 🥹

I have another idea for Virgil. Could you write something about Reader meeting Virgil for the first time and she's not impressed. There is a sexual tension between then, she plays hard to get but ends up giving her contact.

Thank you so much 🫶🏾

I got you, girl😉

Hard to get

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — You meet virgil for the first time and you're not having it.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Virgil Van Dijk x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 2.3k

Warnings! Fluff, reluctant reader, flirty Virg, sexual tensionnn, nonexistent angst,

The club was loud when you walked in, the bass from the speakers thumping in your chest. Multicolored lights flashed across the crowded dance floor, illuminating faces that blurred together in a haze of movement and energy. You could barely hear yourself think over the music and chatter, feeling your headache getting worse.

Damn, you should have never agreed to come.

As you make your way through the throng of people, you spot her friends near the bar, laughing and clinking glasses. Their joy is almost infectious, but you can’t shake off the feeling of discomfort. You take a deep breath, trying to summon the energy to put on a smile and join them.

"Hey, you made it!" one of them shouts over the music, pulling you into a quick hug. The strong scent of her perfume mixes with the smoky air, making you slightly dizzy.

You nod, forcing a smile. "Yeah, couldn't miss it," you reply, though the words feel hollow. This is the last thing you need after the day you've had. You just want to go back home and cuddle with your cat while watching the newest Kdrama.

Lord knows you've been waiting for it to come out. But you promised Charlotte you would come. And you never break your promises. Ever.

You glance around, hoping to spot Charlotte quickly and get this over with. Your eyes scan the room, catching glimpses of dancing bodies and animated conversations.

Finally, you see her near the DJ booth, her hands waving in the air as she dances with wild abandon. Charlotte's energy is a stark contrast to your own, her happiness almost tangible.

You push your way through the crowd, each step feeling like a monumental effort. As you approach, she notices you and her face lights up even more. "You made it!" she exclaims, pulling you into a tight hug.

"Yeah, wouldn't miss it," you repeat, this time with a bit more sincerity. Seeing her so happy does make you feel a little better.

Charlotte leans in close, her voice barely audible over the music. "Come on, let's dance!" she urges, tugging at your arm.

You hesitate, but then decide to go along with it. Maybe, just maybe, if you let yourself go, you'll find a way to enjoy the night. You let her lead you to the dance floor, the music pounding in your ears and the lights flashing around you.

You try to endure it. You really do. For her sake. But the relentless assault on your senses is too much. The music feels like it's shaking your bones, the lights are a chaotic blur, and the press of bodies around you is suffocating. Every instinct is screaming at you to leave, to find a quiet corner and just breathe.

Charlotte turns to you, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Isn't this amazing?" she shouts, her voice barely cutting through the noise.

You nod, but it's a weak attempt at enthusiasm. She doesn't seem to notice, too caught up in the moment. As you stand there, swaying awkwardly to the beat, you start to feel dizzy. The room spins slightly, and you realize you need to get out before you embarrass yourself.

"Charlotte," you manage to say, leaning in close so she can hear. "I'm gonna get some air. Be right back."

She looks concerned for a split second, but then she nods, giving you a quick squeeze. "Okay! Don't be long!"

You give her a reassuring smile and start making your way to the exit. Each step feels like a marathon, but finally, you reach the bar, the temporary relief of having some space helping you catch your breath. You signal the bartender, "Can I get a water?" He nods and disappears to the back. You take the opportunity to lean against the counter, trying to ground yourself amidst the chaos around you.

The drink arrives, and you take a sip, savoring the cool liquid as it slides down your throat. It helps, but only a little. You glance back towards the dance floor, seeing Charlotte still lost in her own world.

Part of you wants to stay for her, but another, louder part of you is screaming for escape. You weigh your options, swirling the water in your hand. Maybe just a few more minutes to collect yourself, you think. Then you can decide.

"Rough night?" The voice beside you catches you off guard. It's deep. Deeper than anything you've ever heard. And you hate the way it makes your thighs clench. God, it's been a while.

Get a grip, girl.

You look up to see a tall, ruggedly handsome man standing before you. His dark hair was pulled back into a bun, and his intense eyes bore into yours with a mixture of curiosity and something else you couldn't quite place.

"Actually, I do mind," you reply coolly, taking a sip of your drink.

"Well, that's a shame," he said, sliding into the seat across from you anyway. "Name’s Virgil."

"Good for you," you responded, not even trying to hide your disinterest. You're usually friendly but you're headache plus your asshole of a coworker had already drained every ounce of patience you had. You just wanted to be left alone, to drink your water and maybe, if you were lucky, sneak out without Charlotte noticing.

Virgil didn’t seem deterred by your cold response. He leaned back, a small chuckle leaving his lips, the sound low and rich. "You’ve got a sharp tongue. I like that."

You raise an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Is that supposed to flatter me?"

"Depends," he replies, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "Is it working?" You roll your eyes, but there's a small part of you that appreciates his persistence.

"Not really," you say, taking another sip of your water. "Look, I'm not in the mood for small talk. Just here to support a friend and get through the night." You say, your tone firm but not unkind. He frowns a little at your words and you hate how cute he looks doing it. Not the time, Y/N.

"Fair enough," Virgil says, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "No more small talk."

You sigh, feeling a bit guilty for being so curt. "It's been a rough day," you admit, looking down at your glass. "Just… needed a moment to breathe."

"I get that," he says, his tone softer now. "Clubs can be overwhelming, especially if you're not in the right headspace."

You nod, appreciating the understanding. "Yeah, it's not really my scene. But my friend, Charlotte—"you gesture towards the dance floor where she's still dancing, "she loves it. And I promised I'd come."

Virgil follows your gaze and nods. "Looks like she's having a great time. You're a good friend for being here."

"Thanks," you say, feeling a bit more at ease. You were strangely enjoying talking to him. "I just need a break from all the noise."

He glances around the crowded bar, then back at you. "How about we step outside for a bit? Get some fresh air?"

You hesitate, but the idea of a quieter space is tempting. "Okay," you agree, sliding off your stool. "But just for a few minutes."

Virgil leads the way through the throng of people tall frame paving the way for you, and you follow, feeling slightly relieved as the noise begins to fade.

Once outside, the cool night air is a welcome contrast to the stifling atmosphere inside. You take a deep breath, feeling your headache start to ease.

"Better?" Virgil asks, leaning against the wall. He looks good like that.

"Much," you reply, closing your eyes for a moment and savoring the quiet. "Thanks."

"No problem," he says, his voice gentle. "Sometimes, you just need to step away for a bit." You open your eyes and look at him, noticing the way the streetlights cast a warm glow on his face. His eyes dim a little as they meet yours, and you can see a hint of understanding in them. Hm, interesting.

"So, what brought you to the club tonight?" you ask, curious despite yourself.

"Meeting some friends," he says with a shrug. "We just got back into town and decided to celebrate."

"Town?" you repeat, intrigued. "You're from here?"

"I used to be," he replies. "But I've been playing soccer professionally for a few years now. Just got back from England for a bit of a break." You take in the new information, thinking about how different his life must be. Now that you think of it…you've seen him before.

"That's pretty cool," you say. "I'm a nurse."

"Really?" he asks, his eyebrows arching in surprise. "How old are you?"

You laugh at the question. "Twenty-seven." And then add, "Why, how old are you?"

"Thirty-two," he replies with a chuckle. "Sorry, didn't mean to sound rude. Just didn't expect you to be a nurse."

"I get that a lot," you say, shaking your head. "Guess I look younger than I am." You feel him glance at you, and your heart rate picks up. The way his eyes run over your body makes you feel like a dessert he wants to devour. You feel your thighs clench slightly at the thought.

"Sorry, I'm being an ass," he says, shaking his head. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"No, it's okay," you assure him. "It happens."

There's a moment of silence, and then he speaks again. "So, do you like being a nurse?"

"It can be hard sometimes," you admit, thinking about today. "But I like helping people." You think of all the times you've held someone's hand or comforted their family. "It's rewarding in its own way."

He nods, looking thoughtful. "Yeah, I can understand that. There's something satisfying about knowing you're making a difference." You smile, enjoying the easy conversation. This is going so much better than your last date. The thought makes you sad a little. Damn, I need a better love life, you think.

As you chat, the sounds from inside the club fade into the background. There's only you and him. The world shrinks around you until it's only the two of you, the cool air, and the faint hum of traffic. It's a heady feeling. You like the way he makes you feel. The way he seems to want you.

And maybe you want him too. Maybe.

"What about you?" you ask, changing the subject. "Do you like being a professional soccer player?"

His smile is immediate. And beautiful. God, he has a beautiful smile. Your heart is fluttering at the sight. "It's the best thing in the world," he says, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "There's nothing quite like being on the field, playing my heart out." He pauses for a moment, looking thoughtful. "It's hard sometimes. There's a lot of pressure and stress, but at the end of the day, it's worth it."

You nod, seeing the passion in him. "That sounds amazing," you say, meaning it. You're happy for him.

There's a pause again, and you look up at Virgil. His gaze has grown more serious, and you can feel a different kind of tension in the air. A sexual tension.

"I really like talking to you," he says, his voice low and husky. You feel your breath catch in your throat. You really like talking to him too.

"I really like talking to you too," you reply, trying to sound cool despite the way your pulse is pounding in your ears. He steps closer, his body heat radiating towards you, making you feel like you're being drawn to him. Like the world is tilting to make sure you're closer.

"I was thinking," he says, his voice dropping even lower. "Maybe we could grab some coffee sometime?" His eyes are intense, and you can see the desire in them. The need to get closer.

"I'm not sure," you reply, trying to sound nonchalant. You're playing hard to get but you really, really want to say yes.

He steps even closer, his face inches from yours. "Come on, I'm really not that bad." His tone is persuasive, and you can feel your resolve weakening. He's too charming, too magnetic. Too hot. And you haven't gotten laid in a while.

"Okay," you finally say, relenting. You don't want him to think you're easy. But damn, you want to kiss him.

"Great," he says, a wide smile stretching across his face. He pulls out his phone, holding it out for you to put your number in.

You do, and then he sends you a quick text to save your number. You smile as you see his name pop up on your phone, a thrill running through you.

"Thanks," Virgil says, slipping his phone back into his pocket. "Looking forward to it."

"Me too," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. You step back slightly, feeling overwhelmed by his closeness. You glance back towards the club, the music now sounding almost inviting. "I should probably get back to my friend."

"Yeah," he says, his voice sounding a little disappointed. "It was nice meeting you."

"Likewise," you reply, smiling softly. He nods, and then walks past you towards the door. You follow, watching him enter the club first, then slipping in behind him. You take a moment to look at his ass before you lose sight of him.

Damn, it's been a while since you've seen an ass that fine.

You make your way to the dance floor, finding Charlotte with your friends. You join them, letting the music wash over you. You lose track of Virgil, but you don't mind. You're happy for the rest of the night, dancing and laughing with your friends. And maybe, just maybe, you're looking forward to coffee sometime soon.

Maybe.

Possibly.

Probably.

Definitely.

-Bianca🌻

I was in need for some Kylian writings lately, thank you for fullfilling my needs 👑

I live to serve 😉

Virgil anon here 👋🏾 I hope you had a good day. Thank you so much for the story! I enjoyed it. I loved how she gave him an attitude, but thirst over him still 😂You write so fast girl, it's impressive 👏🏾

I'm so glad to see you back 😌

Glad to be back 😊

Hi!

I just wanted to take a moment to thank everyone for 200 followers. I'm so grateful to everyone for taking the time to read my writing. It means a lot to me. I love you guys💛

I know I haven't been posting much these past couple of days, I was on vacation. But I'm back now and ready to post as much as I can. You guys left a lot of requests so it might take some time to get through them all.

Please be patient with me🥺🙏

My method is to tackle the ones that are easiest to write first since they take less time and get to the longer, heavier ones when I have more time. Don't worry if I haven't replied to your ask yet. I promise I'm working on it 😉

Last thing...The Kylian fanfic that I started ages ago will be uploaded soon. I'm not sure when, but soon. If you have any ideas for that, you can also send me requests for it too.

Okay, that's all.

Once again thank you so much for 200 followers, and I hope everyone has a good night/day😊

-Bianca🌻