Can You Do A Jude Bellingham Fic Where He Won A Match And He Comes Home Blows Our Backs Out?

can you do a Jude Bellingham fic where he won a match and he comes home blows our backs out? 😝

Winner

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — You and Jude celebrate after his match

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Jude Bellingham x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 4.3k

Warnings! NSFW! SMUT (18+), unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (f & m receiving), rough sex, multiple orgasms, dom!Jude, sub!reader.

Cheers erupt all over the Stadium as Jude scores the winning goal.

You barely believe it as you’re jumping up and down in your seat, screaming Jude’s name. You’ve been waiting for this moment all game, watching Jude give it his all out on the field. You’re sitting in the VIP section of the Stadium, wearing Jude’s jersey. You feel the energy of the crowd around you, and you can’t help but let it consume you. You can’t get enough of it.

The game has been intense from start to finish. Both teams are fighting for points to climb up the league table, and you know how much Jude wants it for his team. How hard he's worked for it.

You watch him as he runs around on the field, doing his signature celebrations as his teammates rush to congratulate him. You can tell he’s already thinking of you. He’s looking in your direction, his eyes scanning the crowd. It takes him a moment to find you, and when he does, he smiles at you.

“Jude! Jude! Jude!” The chant rings out around you as he waves to the crowd . You can barely make him out through the sea of people in between you, but you know he’s looking at you. He always does after scoring.

He makes his way off the field to be greeted by his teammates and coaches, and reporters surround him for a post-game interview.

You watch him talk for a bit, not really listening to what he’s saying. You just love hearing him speak and watching him move. You’re so proud of him. When he’s done, you see him look around until he finds you again. He waves at you as he makes his way towards you, and you jump out of your seat to run and meet him. He meets you halfway and pulls you into a hug.

“I did it,” he says, voice laced with disbelief as he kisses your forehead.

You wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face in his neck.

“You were amazing,” you tell him, squeezing him tighter. He laughs into your hair, sqeezing you tighter.

“Come on,” he tells you, pulling you away and taking your hand in his. “I’ve got to celebrate with the guys.”

You smile at him and follow him to the locker room. You can hear the music playing and the guys cheering and chanting before you even walk through the door.

The locker room erupts when Jude walks in, the guys picking him up on their shoulders and chanting his name. You stand off to the side, watching with a big smile on your face. You love seeing Jude get the recognition he deserves. Finally.

He’s finally set down on his own two feet again, and he pulls you to him. He’s drenched in sweat and dripping with water, but you don’t care. He leans down and kisses you on the lips causing a loud chorus of whistles from the other guys. They’re used to him bringing you to the locker room after games by now.

He holds you to his chest, and you can hear his heart beating loudly against your ear. You can’t help but feel a little turned on by the way he’s holding you and the way he smells.

“Let's go. I need to you get home,” he says, kissing your neck. You feel your heart rate pick up.

“don't you want to celebrate with the guys?” you ask, pulling away to look at him. His face is serious, and he looks at you like he wants to eat you alive. He looks at you with the kind of intensity that makes you shiver. He can read your body perfectly.

“I’ll celebrate with them later, I want to celebrate with you now,” he tells you. You can hear the want in his voice, and you can’t help but feel a little turned on. You know that look on his face, and you know what it means. He wants you bad.

"Okay," you say, looking at him. He smiles at you, pulling away.

"I'm going to get out of these clothes,” he says, leaning in to place a peck on your lips. You nod at him, turning to walk away. “Be right back,” he tells you. You turn to watch him go, your eyes following his every move as he walks away. You can’t help but appreciate how hot he looks in his uniform.

It's not before he comes back to find you making small talk with some of the guys. You can tell he’s in a hurry, and you don't blame him. You can't wait to get home either. You're feeling the excitement of the win all over your body. The energy of the stadium still coursing through you.

You're out of the locker room and in the car in no time, driving home in silence. You can feel the tension radiating off of Jude, and you know he’s thinking about how he’s going to fuck you the minute you walk through the door.

His hand is on your thigh the entire drive, and you can feel the heat of it radiating through your skin. You’re squirming in your seat, feeling yourself getting wetter the closer you get to home. You feel him glance over at you every so often, and you can't help but feel a little giddy from the excitement.

You love having Jude all to yourself, especially after a win. He's still pumping with adrenaline, and you know he can't wait to release it.

Yeah, you're not walking tomorrow.

The drive felt like an eternity. You're practically running out of the car when you pull into your driveway, Jude close behind.

You're barely in the house when you hear the door slam shut behind you, and you feel Jude pull you to him. You don't even get a chance to turn around before you feel his lips on your neck, sucking on your pulse point. You let out a moan as he bites down, and he laughs against your skin.

"You're so fucking sexy when you’re cheering me on,” he tells you. You can feel his hands sliding up your sides, and you shiver as he kisses up your neck. “I couldn't focus on anything else.”

“Jude." you moan. You’re already so wet and he’s barely touched you.

“Do you have any idea how hot you are?” he asks, running his hand down the side of your body. You lean back into him, enjoying the feeling of his fingers on you. “You’re driving me insane.”

You turn in his arms and look up at him. You can see the want in his eyes.

“I love watching you play,” you tell him. He smiles at you and leans down to kiss you. His lips are soft on yours, and you can’t help but moan into him.

“I love it too,” he says, smiling. You kiss again and pull away. He follows you to the kitchen, and you pull a bottle of champagne out of the fridge. You had secretly bought it yesterday because you knew he would win. He laughs when he sees it.

“You’re so sweet,” he says, smiling at you. You smile back and pop the cork, pouring him a glass. He holds it up in a toast. “To the win,” he says.

“Cheers to the win,” you say, clinking your glasses together.

You both take a drink and set the glasses down on the counter. He pulls you to him again and kisses you, harder than before. His lips move against yours in a passionate kiss, and you can’t help but moan into him.

He’s got one hand on your waist and the other in your hair, holding your face to his. He pulls away and smiles at you.

“You’re so perfect,” he tells you, kissing your lips again. He pulls away and takes your hand, pulling you towards the stairs. “Let’s celebrate.”

He’s got that look on his face again. The look that says he’s going to fuck you stupid. You shiver at the thought of it.

You follow him to your bedroom, and he pulls you to him. His lips are on yours again, kissing you softly. You let him move your lips against his, enjoying the feeling of his tongue against yours. You pull away and look at him. You can see the want in his eyes, and you can't help but feel a little turned on.

"Jude," you moan.

"Come here," he says, pulling you to him again. You kiss again, and he pulls your jersey off. You're standing in front of him in a pair of shorts and a lacy black bra. He lets out a groan as the sight. He's in love with them.

"You're so sexy," he tells you, running a hand up your side. He unhooks your bra and pulls it off, cupping your breasts in his hands. You let out a moan as he kneads them, and he leans down to kiss your lips.

He moves his lips down your neck and over your shoulder, kissing the tops of your breasts. You feel him move his hand down to your shorts, sliding a finger under the waistband. You can’t help but shiver as you feel him pull your shorts off.

He looks at you again and smiles.

"You look good in nothing," he tells you, running his hands up your sides. You can’t help but laugh as he pulls you to him again.

You kiss again and move towards the bed, and you feel Jude push you back onto it. He climbs on top of you and kisses down your neck, moving his way down your body. You can feel him trailing kisses across your collarbone and down to your breasts. You let out a moan as you feel his lips on your nipples, sucking them into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around each one, making them hard.

You run your hands through his hair, enjoying the feeling of him touching you. You can feel him moving down your body further, kissing your stomach and down towards your hips. You let out a moan as you feel him settle himself between your legs.

You feel him kiss up the inside of your thigh, and you shiver at the thought of him putting his mouth on you.

"I can't wait to taste that pretty pink pussy," he tells you. You can’t help but blush at his words.

"Please," you moan. He looks up at you and smiles before moving his head between your legs.

You let out a moan as you feel his tongue flick out against you. You can feel him licking up your slit, and you can’t help but move against him. He holds your hips still and continues his assault on your clit, licking circles around it. You can feel yourself getting wetter with each pass, and you know it won't be long before you cum.

"Fuck," you moan as he pulls back and looks at you. "You're so wet for me," he tells you, smiling. He moves his tongue back to your clit, flicking it against you. You can feel your muscles tensing up and you know you’re about to cum.

"Jude," you moan, moving your hips against his tongue. He moans against you, and you feel him pull you closer to his mouth. You let out a loud moan as you feel your orgasm hit you, and you can’t help but move against his tongue. You feel him licking up your cum, and you let out a satisfied sigh as it washes over you.

He pulls away and smiles up at you.

“Good girl,” he tells you, leaning up to kiss your lips. He pulls back and stands up, taking off his shorts and boxers. You can’t help but stare at his cock, standing at attention. God has favorites.

You lick your lips and move to sit up. He smiles at you and moves forward, guiding your head towards his cock. You open your mouth and take him in, letting out a moan as he fills your mouth. You can feel the precum dripping onto your tongue, and you swallow it down.

You move your mouth up and down his shaft, swirling your tongue around the tip. You feel him grab your hair, moving your head back and forth on his cock. You let out a moan as you feel him hitting the back of your throat, and you can’t help but gag on him.

“Good girl,” he says, smiling down at you. He holds you there for a second and pulls you off. “You’re so fucking good.”

You look up at him, smiling, and you can see the lust in his eyes. He moves forward and pushes you back onto the bed, climbing on top of you. He kisses you hard, and you can feel him moving his hips against you. You can feel his cock sliding between your legs, and you let out a moan as it rubs against you.

"I've been waiting for this all day," he tells you. You moan again as he continues to rub against you, sliding up and down your slit. You can feel him getting harder and harder against you, and you know he’s ready.

You can’t help but move against him, trying to get him inside you. He smiles at you and moves back, lining up his cock with your hole. just when you think he's about to push in, he pulls back and smiles at you, slapping his cock against your clit. You let out a moan and look up at him.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” he asks, leaning down to kiss your neck. You let out a moan as he continues to rub against you.

“Yes,” you moan. “Fuck me.” He smiles at you again and continues to tease you.

“Beg me,” he tells you, moving his hips faster. You can feel the friction building up between your legs, and you know you’re going to cum again soon. You’re getting desperate for it.

“Please,” you beg, moving your hips faster. You can’t help but moan as he continues to tease you. You feel him laugh against your skin, and you know he’s enjoying this. Bastard.

“Please what?” he asks, kissing up your neck. You can feel his lips on your pulse point, and you can’t help but shiver.

“Please fuck me,” you beg. He smiles again and continues to rub against you. “I can’t take this.”

“I know,” he tells you, laughing again. You feel him move his hips faster, and you let out a loud moan as you feel your orgasm wash over you. You feel him laugh again as he continues to rub against you, prolonging your orgasm. He feels your muscles tense up as you cum, and he pulls away. He looks down at you and smiles, stroking his cock.

“You look so pretty cumming,” he tells you. You let out a moan as you look at him. You feel your body shiver with pleasure as he strokes himself above you. He’s close, you can tell.

“Please,” you beg again. He smiles at you and moves forward. You feel him line his cock up with your hole and push in slowly. You let out a moan as you feel him fill you up. He doesn’t give you time to adjust, pulling out and slamming back in. You let out a loud moan as you feel him fill you completely. You love it like this. He knows.

“Fuck,” he groans. “You’re so tight.” You can’t help but moan as you feel him move again. You reach up and grab his arms, digging your nails into his skin. You can feel him pick up his pace, and you know he’s close.

He pulls out and flips you over, pulling your hips up into the air. You feel him push back in from behind, and you let out a loud moan. You can feel him filling you up, and you love the way he feels from this angle.

“Fuck,” he groans again as he moves. You can feel his hands on your hips as he slams into you again and again. You let out a loud moan as you feel him move, and you can’t help but move back against him. “Fuck yes! I love this pussy” he groans, moving harder.

You can feel him moving faster and faster, and you know he’s going to cum soon. He’s been holding it in all day, and you know he’s close. He’s practically pounding into you at this point, and you can feel the sweat dripping off his body onto yours.

He moves his hand around your hip, finding your clit again. You let out a moan as you feel his fingers on you again, and you can’t help but move against him. You’re so close, you can feel it.

“Cum for me,” he tells you, moving his fingers faster. "Cum for your boyfriend, baby"

You feel yourself let go and cum again, your muscles tensing up as you feel your orgasm hit you. You let out a loud moan as you feel yourself cum around his cock, and he groans above you. You feel him pull out and move to sit beside you on the bed, stroking his cock above you. You can see the precum dripping off his cock, and you move forward, opening your mouth to take it in.

“Such a slut for me, aren't you baby?” he mocks, guiding your head as you suck him off. You moan against him, and he laughs. He knows you love it when he talks dirty to you. He moves your head back and forth on his cock, and you take him deeper.

“You want my cum?” he asks, smiling at you. You look up at him and nod. You love the taste of yourself on his cock. Can't get enough of it. You feel him move your head back and forth faster, and you can tell he’s close.

“Swallow it for me,” he tells you. You feel him move faster, and you can’t help but gag on his cock. “Good girl. Just like that.” he moans, his hand tightening in your hair.

You feel him tense up, and you know he’s about to cum. You keep your lips wrapped around his cock, sucking with all you're worth. You can feel him hitting the back of your throat, and you know you’re about to get his load down the back of your throat. You’re drooling. You can't help it.

“Fuck,” he groans, his body shaking above you. “Cumming!” he moans as he fills your mouth with his cum, shooting hot ropes into your throat. You swallow it down, letting it coat your tongue and slide down your throat. You keep sucking, swallowing down every drop.

You feel him pull out of your mouth and sit back on the bed, stroking your hair. You look up at him and smile, his cum still on your tongue.

You feel him move his thumb across your bottom lip, and you open your mouth to suck it in. He smiles at you. “Good girl,” he tells you, smiling at you. You can see the want in his eyes, and you know he’s not done.

“We’re not done yet,” he tells you, laying back on the bed. He pulls you on top of him and smiles at you. You can feel him already getting hard again. He grabs your hips and moves you against his cock, rubbing it between your legs.

“Ride me,” he orders. He pulls you up, and you feel him guide his cock into you again. You let out a moan as you sink down onto him, feeling him deeper at this angle. “Fuck,” he groans, his eyes rolling back in his head.

You let out a moan as you start moving on him, grinding yourself against his hips. “That’s it baby,” he tells you, smiling at you. You feel him move his hands to your hips, moving you against him. You let out a moan as you feel him move. “You feel so good,” he tells you, moving his hand to your ass. He smacks it hard, and you let out a moan. He smiles at you and does it again. “You like that baby?” he asks.

“Yes,” you moan. He smacks your ass again, and you feel him move his hands to your back. He pulls you forward and kisses you hard. You can feel him moving his hips again, pushing deeper into you. You let out a moan as you feel him fill you completely.

“You're such a good girl,” he tells you, moving his hand around your hip to find your clit. You let out a moan as he starts rubbing it again. “I'm going to make you cum again,” he tells you, moving his fingers faster. “You’re going to cum all over my cock, and then I’m going to fill that tight pussy up with my cum.”

You moan again and pick up your pace, grinding yourself harder against him. You feel his fingers on your clit and his cock deep inside you, and you know you’re going to cum soon.

“Cum for me baby,” he tells you, smiling at you. You let out a loud moan as you feel yourself let go again, your muscles tensing up as you feel your orgasm hit you. You feel him laugh above you as you cum around him, your movements getting slower as you ride out your orgasm.

He flips you onto your back and starts moving on top of you, picking up his pace. You're crying at this point, pussy so sensitive you can't take it. He's going to fuck you into oblivion. You feel his body tense up as he starts moving faster, and you know he’s close again.

“Fuck, I'm going to cum,” he tells you, face scrunched up with pleasure. You feel him move your legs up and wrap them around his waist, pulling you closer to him. He moves his hand down to your ass, spreading your cheeks. You can feel him slide deeper into you at this angle, and you can’t help but moan. “Such a tight little hole. So good to fuck.” He groans, face buried in your neck.

“Cum inside me,” you beg. He moans and bites your shoulder. You feel him tense up as he moves faster, and you know he’s going to fill you up. You want it. You crave it.

“Fuck, I'm cumming,” he whimpers, his body shaking above you. You can feel his cock twitch inside you as he cums, filling you up. He moves his hips slowly against yours as he comes, emptying his balls into you. “Fuck,” he moans, collapsing on top of you.

You can feel his cock pulsing inside you, and you know you’re going to feel him dripping out of you for days. He pulls out and rolls onto his side, pulling you against him. You can feel his cum dripping down your thighs, and you know you’re going to be sore tomorrow. You're already sore, but it's a good sore. One that makes you smile. He's given you everything he has, and you've taken it all.

He pulls you closer to him and kisses the top of your head. “You were so good baby,” he tells you. You smile at him and kiss his chest. “I love you.” You tell him, smiling at him. He smiles back at you and pulls you closer. “I love you too,” he tells you, kissing the top of your head again.

You both lay there, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking. You're both exhausted. You can't even move. You're done.

You don't know how long you lay there, but you know it’s been a while. You're about to fall asleep when you feel the bed shift beside you. You open your eyes to see Jude walking towards the bathroom. You smile as you watch him go.

You roll onto your back, staring at the ceiling. The sound of rummaging and water running has you sitting up. You feel the bed dip beside you, and you open your eyes to see Jude crawling back onto the bed. He's got a towel in his hand, and you look at him curiously.

“What are you doing?” you ask, sitting up on your elbows.

“I'm cleaning you up,” he tells you, smiling. You let out a small laugh and move to sit up. “Lay back,” he tells you, pushing you back onto the bed. You let out another laugh and roll your eyes, laying back onto the bed. You feel him grab your legs and move them apart, running the towel up your thighs.

You're sensitve as he runs the towel between your legs, wincing at the soreness. “Shhh,” he coos, eyes locked on your pussy, focused. He runs the towel up and down your slit a few more times before running it across your stomach. “There,” he tells you, smiling. “All clean.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, voice hoarse from screaming, gagging and sucking. “I've got you,” he tells you, smiling at you. You can't help but smile back at him.

“Come here,” he tells you, dropping the towel on the ground beside the bed. You roll towards him as he pulls back the covers, moving under them. You snuggle up against his side, resting your head on his chest.

“I can't wait to get my next match,” he mutters after a while, voice heavy with sleep. “I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk after it,” he jokes.

You smile back at him and kiss his lips. “I wouldn't have it any other way,” you tell him.

You both smile at each other, and drift off to sleep.

This is heaven. This is your happiness.

He's your everything. You love him. He loves you too. You know he does. He'll do anything for you. You'll do the same for him.

-Bianca🌻

Hi! I was the anonymous requester who you said your new fic coming out forever my heart sounds like! If possible could you make it separate so I’ll have more to read! Also if you could add Kylian being her first everything like even kiss!

This is the longest fic I've written up to date and I'm beat. Sorry it came out a little later than I planned.

Love Heals

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — request: «Ok please make this long again but maybe something with Kylian where reader had a really hard life working full time sometimes overtime and multiple jobs with an abusive family while going to school like her sister would bully her, mom abuse her and dad was neglectful and her jobs were terrible too like she has burns from working fast food and him being emotional and shocked because she is so happy all the time and her finally deciding to tell him after a long time like something like a fight or something like he proposes to her makes her tell him and how she is scared to trust him and tells him shes looking to get married»

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Kylian Mbappé x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 11.k

Warnings! ANGST!! Abuse, abusive family, injury, violence, burns, referencing to past hurts, depictions of violence, insecurities, anxiety, trauma, self-conscious reader, anxious reader FLUFF! lots of comfort, protective Kylian, he would kill for you, mild smut at the end, unprotected sex, soft sex, soft Kylian

The restaurant was busier than usual tonight.

Every table seemed to fill as quickly as it was cleared, and you found yourself darting between the kitchen and the dining area without a moment to catch your breath. The clatter of dishes and the murmur of voices blended into a chaotic symphony around you.

The only thing you could do to get the orders done on time was to run. Your feet were aching in pain, you were so tired you felt like collapsing to the ground. Your hands were shaking, you were holding three plates in one hand.

Despite the ache in your legs and the fatigue weighing down your shoulders, you pushed forward. You had to.

This is how your typical day went— gruesome, tiring, a relentless cycle of exhaustion that demanded everything you had to give.

As you hurried past a table, a customer’s voice cut through the chaos, harsh and dismissive.

“Hey!” the man shouted, “You messed up my order again.”

You froze, the plates of food suddenly too heavy to hold. Your heart sank as you turned around to face the angry customer. You immediately recognized him. Sam.

He had come to the restaurant a few weeks ago and tried to flirt with you. You turned him down, and ever since, he had made it his mission to make your life a living hell.

He comes in every day and just harasses you, knowing you can't really do anything about him because he's a customer.

You're usually good at handling the situation, most of the time just letting him run his mouth. Mostly just insults and catcalls. You endure it. But he's been ordering drinks all night, and the restaurant is packed.

Using all the patience you could muster, you took a deep breath and made your way to him. “I apologize, sir. What seems to be the problem?”

“I said you messed up my order, bitch,” he growled.

You flinched at his tone, feeling the familiar sting of shame. But you kept your composure. “I apologize for the inconvenience. May I know what you ordered so that I can correct the problem?”

Before you could take note of his order, he stood up. “Fuck you,” he sneered. He threw the glass of liquid at you. The strong alcoholic smell tells you that it's whiskey.

The cool beverage soaked your clothes, a stark contrast to the warmth of the burns you received earlier from the grill. You didn’t even notice the pain anymore, the stinging sensation was normal now.

“Get m-me a new... new drink!” he continued. His voice grew louder, and you could hear his slurred words. Drunk.

You could feel eyes on you, but you tried not to look anywhere. The customers and the waiters were all staring. You felt the hot tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

"Excuse me." You heard a man's voice from the table next to Sam's. You looked over. A tall, handsome man was looking at you with concern.

He was seated with a group of friends, all of whom had stopped their conversation to watch the unfolding scene. The man stood up, his presence commanding immediate attention.

"Is there a problem here?" he asked, his voice calm yet firm. His eyes, kind yet resolute, met yours for a brief moment before shifting to Sam.

Sam sneered at the newcomer. "This doesn't concern you," he slurred, his words barely coherent. "This is between me and her."

The man stepped closer, his posture unyielding, his body shielding you from Sam's view. For some reason, you felt safe with him here. "It does concern me. You're being abusive, and that's not acceptable."

Sam's face twisted in anger. "Who the hell do you think you are?" he spat, trying to push the man away. But the man didn't budge.

With a calm yet authoritative voice, the unnamed man responded, "I'm someone who won't stand by and let you treat her like this." His tone was steady, unwavering, and it seemed to cut through the drunken haze clouding Sam's mind.

Sam glared at him, his drunken bravado faltering. "Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?" he challenged, though his voice wavered slightly.

The man glanced around, noticing the restaurant manager approaching with what seemed to be a concerned look. But you knew better.

Richard’s never cared for your well-being or any of his employees, for that matter. He was a money-hungry man who only cared about the restaurant’s reputation and how much money we were bringing in.

Working for him was a nightmare, but you had no choice. This was the highest-paying job you had and the only reason why you could pay your tuition for the semester.

He approached quickly, his eyes flicking between Sam and the newcomer, assessing the situation.

“Is everything alright here?” Richard asked, his voice tight. His eyes were piecing daggers at your form, and you subconsciously cowarded into the man standing next to you.

“Actually, it’s not,” the man said, turning to Richard. “This customer has been harassing your staff. It needs to stop.”

Richard’s expression hardened, though he managed a tight smile. “I see. I’ll handle it from here.” He glanced at you, a warning in his eyes, before turning to Sam. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Sam’s drunken rage flared again. “I’m not going anywhere! I’m a paying customer!” He shoved his chair back, nearly toppling it over, and lunged at Richard. But before he could do any more damage, the stranger intervened, stepping between them with practiced ease.

“Let’s not make this any worse,” the man said calmly, placing a firm hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You’ve had too much to drink. It’s time to go.” As he said that, two men from the table he was previously sat at stood up to join him, their presence reinforcing his authority. Sam looked between the three men, his drunken bravado quickly dissipating into defeat.

Richard, seizing the moment, nodded curtly. "I'll call you a cab," he said, signaling to one of the other waitstaff to assist. Sam, now subdued, allowed himself to be led away, grumbling under his breath but offering no further resistance.

The tension in the room slowly dissipated, and you felt your shoulders sag with relief while your stomach turned with dread. Richard was going to make you pay for this. For losing a customer. For causing a scene.

The tall, handsome man turned back to you, his expression softening. "Are you okay?" he asked gently, his eyes scanning your soaked clothes and the fatigue etched on your face.

You nodded, though your voice betrayed you with a slight quiver. "Yes, thank you. I’m sorry you had to get involved."

He shook his head, a reassuring smile playing on his lips. "Don't be. No one should have to deal with that alone. I'm Kylian."

"Y/N," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," Kylian said warmly, his eyes never leaving yours. He was about to say something else when Richard interrupted.

"Y/N I need to speak with you, now," Richard barked, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Kylian must've seen the fear in your eyes because he stepped closer to you, almost shielding you from Richard. Your heart fluttered at his gesture but you knew what would happen if you didn't listen.

You reached out a shaky hand and tapped him on the shoulder, your eyes silently communicating that you were okay. He stared at you for a second analyzing your features before nodding slightly and stepping out of the way, making you face Richard again.

Richard’s eyes narrowed at the interaction, wondering How you knew Kylian Mbappé. But decided not to say anything. He looked at you. "Go change your clothes. Meet me in my office in 10 minutes."

You nodded looking at Kylian one more time before scurrying away.

****

Kylian watched you leave, a sense of unease settling in his stomach. Something about you tugged at his heart, drawing him in.

He had first noticed you when he came in. You were a small, maybe 5'0. Your hair was dark, but he could tell it was dyed, your natural color peeking from the roots. You had soft eyes and full lips that seemed to curve into a smile every time you took an order. Your uniform hung loose on you, he could tell you were thin, but not in a healthy way. He had to do a double-take when he saw your name tag.

Y/N.

For some reason, it causes butterflies to erupt in his stomach. He decided then that before the night ended, he would talk to you. Charm you. Get your number.

He spent the whole night watching you as you bustled around the restaurant, taking orders and delivering food with a grace that belied the chaos that seemed to surround you.

And then he saw Sam. The way he talked to you, the way he treated you, made Kylian's blood boil. He had been about to intervene when you came over to Sam’s table, and it was then that he noticed your arm.

Peaking just out of your sleeve was what looked like a burn. It was red, fresh. The sight made his heart clench. What happened to you? Did it hurt?

When Sam started yelling at you, Kylian knew he couldn't stay seated anymore. He stood up and had to fight the urge to punch Sam in the face when he threw a drink at you.

The restaurant bustled around Kylian as he watched you hurry away. Without thinking, his feet moved to follow you, but Hakimi caught his arm. "Hey, where are you going?"

"I just... I need to make sure she's okay," Kylian said, his voice filled with concern.

His friend raised an eyebrow but nodded, letting go of his arm. The look on Kylian's face was unlike anything he had ever seen. The pure concern in his eyes was so heavy that it took him back. He had never seen such desperation in the man. All to follow you.

Kylian nodded and made his way towards the back of the restaurant, following the path you had taken.

Meanwhile, in the small staff restroom, you stood in front of the mirror, trying to steady your breathing. The whiskey-soaked uniform clung to your skin, and the cold, damp fabric made you shiver. But the chill didn’t compare to the icy fear that gripped your heart.

Richard was going to be furious. You had to figure out how to calm him down before it was too late. You pulled off your uniform and began to change, your hands shaking as you tried to button up your spare shirt. You were so tired. Your body felt like a weight was pressing down on it, making it impossible to move.

A knock at the door startled you out of your reverie. “Hello, are you okay? Do you need any help?” a deep voice called out.

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks as you realized it was Kylian. You quickly finished changing and opened the door, revealing him standing there, concern etched on his face. His eyes softened as he took in your appearance, still damp from the spilled drink but now clad in fresh clothes.

"Hey," he said gently, eyes scanning your figure for injuries. "I wanted to make sure you were alright."

You managed a small, grateful smile, touched by his genuine concern. "Thank you, I'm okay," you replied softly, though you couldn't hide the lingering unease in your eyes.

He nodded, his expression serious yet comforting. "Is there anything I can do?" Kylian asked, his tone sincere.

Before you could respond, a sharp voice interrupted from behind him. "Y/N, my office. Now." It was Richard, his impatience palpable.

You glanced nervously at Kylian, who met your gaze with a look you couldn't decipher. You forced a weak smile before hurrying past him towards Richard's office.

****

Kylian stood rooted to the spot, watching you disappear down the hallway. His stomach twisted with worry. But then he heard Richard’s voice, his words barely concealed by the thin office door. Kylian felt a knot of anger in his chest as he heard Richard berate you.

You were fired.

Kylian clenched his fists, barely controlling the urge to barge in and set Richard straight. But he knew that would only make things worse for you.

As soon as he saw you leave Richard’s office, he made his way over to you. “Are you okay,” he repeated. It's all he seemed to ask you since you met him. It made your heart flutter how much he cared. Even if he didn't know you.

You looked up at him, your eyes red and puffy from crying. He felt his chest clench with regret. If he had known Richard was going to fire you, he would've never left you alone. “yeah, I'm fine, ” you sniffled, forcing a smile.

He reached out, gently brushing a tear from your cheek. Your skin was soft, delicate. You froze at his touch and he quickly removed his hand.

Contrôle toi, mon vieux, c'est pas le temps. He scolded himself.

The air became awkward as you stared at each other. His fingers itched to touch you again. He cleared his throat breaking the silence. “Is there anything I can do?” he asked, his voice low. You shook your head.

“No, I’ll be okay.”

Kylian sighed. He couldn't leave you like this. “Can I at least drive you home?” he asked, his tone hopeful.

You hesitated, your instincts telling you to refuse, but the exhaustion in your body won you over. "I... I guess that would be okay," you murmured.

Kylian's face brightened with relief. "Great. Let me just grab my things."

As he walked back to his table to collect his belongings, you took a moment to steady yourself. Tonight had been draining, emotionally and physically, and the idea of spending a few more moments with him was strangely comforting.

You didn't know what to make of Kylian's attention, but right now, you would enjoy every bit you could get.

Kylian returned quickly, his friends giving him knowing looks as he walked away. He led you to the door, a protective hand gently guiding you out of the crowded restaurant.

****

The car ride was quiet, with the only sound being the soft hum of the music playing from the speakers. You couldn't help but stare at Kylian as he drove.

He was handsome. Tall and lean. His skin was dark, a soft brown. His eyes were brown, the deepest you had ever seen. He had nice lips and a sharp jawline.

He looked back at you every now and then, checking that you were still there. The gesture made a warmth bloom in your chest.

Never had anyone stood up for you the way he had. A complete stranger at that. Even though you had just met, and it was stupid of you to get into a stranger's car and let him drive you home. You had never felt more safe than in this moment. With him. Beside him.

You wanted him to keep driving, take you far away from everything.

The halt of the car jolted you out of your trance. Kylian looked at you, his eyes soft. "We're here," he said. "Is this your house?"

You nodded, not wanting to get out.

Kylian got out of the car and walked around to open the door for you. He took your hand, helping you out, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. You didn't want him to let go. "Thank you for everything," you said softly, shyly glancing up at him.

He smiled, his lips curving up and his eyes twinkling. "Anytime Y/N."

And with that, you turned around and made your way to the house.

****

Kylian watched as you disappeared behind the front door. His chest felt heavy, his thoughts consumed by you. He missed you already.

He had never felt this way about someone before. The way you made him feel was unlike anything he had ever experienced. He felt a strange pull towards you, a feeling he couldn’t explain. All he knew was he wanted to spend more time with you. He wanted to talk to you. He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to hold you.

Kylian made his way back into his car, starting the engine and pulling away from your house. His mind was whirling with thoughts of you.

Just as he pulled into his driveway he remembered something. He never got your number.

****

It was weeks before you would see him again.

This time at the bookstore you worked at. He walked in with a teenager by his side. And judging by the uncanny resemblance between the two, you could tell they were brothers.

You felt your stomach drop at the sight of him. Before he could notice you, you quickly fixed the scarf around your neck where your father's handprint lay fresh and prayed to God your concealer was thick enough to mask the bruise on your face.

You busied yourself behind the counter, stealing glances when you could. They were in the school supplies section, browsing. His brother was animatedly discussing something with him, his gestures mirroring Kylian's in a way that was both heartwarming and bittersweet for you.

You smoothed your scarf nervously, a habit that now concealed more than just your attire, hiding the marks you hoped no one would notice.

As they approached the checkout, Kylian looked up, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, the world seemed to pause.

Your throat felt dry and your knees grew weak. The stare he was giving you was an intense one. One that made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

You stayed like that for a while. Just staring at each other. His brother stood beside him oblivious to the unspoken exchange, chattering on excitedly.

Then he smiled. It was a gentle smile, one that made you feel warm. He began to walk towards you leaving his brother behind to do more browsing and approached the counter. Your heart pounded in your chest and your mouth felt dry.

"Hi," he said, his voice soft. His eyes searched yours, looking for something. But you didn't know what.

"Hi," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper. He leaned forward on the counter, his body angling towards you in a way that felt like a secret. You felt his scent surround you. It was spicy and musky. Your chest fluttered in response.

"I thought I'd never see you again," he said, his voice filled with a longing. Your heart skipped a beat. The tone of his voice, the way he was looking at you. It was almost overwhelming. Never had someone regarded you with such care, such intent.

You felt like a flower being basked in the warm sunlight for the first time.

You managed a small smile. "Yeah, me too," you said, your voice small.

He smiled back. Your stomach clenched. You love his smile. Love the way it made you feel safe, wanted.

He looked like he was about to say something when his brother interrupted him, holding a stack of supplies. "Kylian, come pay for this," his brother said. Kylian nodded, reaching for his wallet.

As he began to unload the stuff from his brother's arms onto the counter, his gaze locked with yours again. He didn't speak but instead held your eyes with an intensity you couldn't understand.

You managed to break the contact by looking down and started to ring up the items.

When you were done and Kylian had paid, his brother thanked you. His smile was sweet and genuine. Kylian looked at you, his eyes searching yours.

You felt like he was trying to say something, but he didn't speak. Instead, he reached out and took one of your hands in his. His palm was warm. You felt a shiver run down your spine at the contact.

"Can I have your number?" he asked, his voice filled with hope. You felt a warmth spread in your chest at his words.

You froze at his words. No one had ever asked you for your number before. At least, no boy.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure how to respond. The idea of giving out your number both excited and terrified you. Did you really want to be his friend? As your stepmother always said you tend to bring more harm than good into people's life.

And Kylian was such a good person.

Could you really burden him like that? Suffocate him with your baggage. You weren't meant to be loved. Clearly. After all even your own father didn't want you. Why would he?

You knew that once he got to know the truth about you he would run for the hills. You didn't want to get attached to him only for him to leave you. Heck, you could already feel yourself tearing up at the thought.

But then, looking into Kylian's earnest eyes, you saw something different. Something you both desperately craved. The need to be loved. To be seen.

Slowly, you nodded, your heart racing. "Okay," you managed to say, your voice barely audible but filled with a newfound resolve.

Relief washed over Kylian's face, followed by a soft smile that lit up his features. He's so beautiful, you thought. He handed you his phone, the screen already lit up with the phone app open. With trembling fingers, you entered your number, feeling nerves twisting in your guts.

"Thank you," he said sincerely as he took back his phone, typing a quick message to ensure your number was saved. Your phone pinged beside you, the screen lighting up with the message 'Hi.' from an unknown number. You couldn't help but smile.

Unbeknownst to you, Kylian saw it. You were the most beautiful woman he had ever met. And he's met a lot of women. It was no secret to the world that Kylian Mbappé was a heartthrob, sought after by many.

But in that quiet moment at the bookstore counter, he gave himself to you. Mind, soul, and hopefully if all goes according to his plan, body.

He was yours.

He emptied out the space in his heart and placed you there, a refuge from the stormy world you knew too well. It scared him what he was ready to do for you. After all, he didn't even know you.

And yet, in that instant, everything felt right. His instincts, usually so finely tuned on the field, told him that you were worth the risk.

As he glanced at his brother, who was waiting impatiently by the door, Kylian knew he had to go, yet he couldn't bring himself to leave just yet.

"I have to run," he said reluctantly, his voice tinged with regret. "But I really want to talk to you more. Can we meet sometime?"

His question once again made you hesitate. But looking into his soft brown eyes made you melt. So you decided right then that you would enjoy his company for as long as he wanted you and would mourn his loss when he would eventually leave.

You nodded, unable to hide the smile that crept across your face. "Sure," you managed to say, feeling a rush of excitement and nervousness.

"Great," he replied, his smile widening. "I'll text you."

With that, he squeezed your hand gently before turning to leave with his brother, who was now calling him urgently. You watched them walk away, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside you—hope, disbelief, and a hint of fear.

As the door closed behind them, you leaned back against the counter, replaying the brief encounter in your mind. Could this be real? Was this some sick prank your stepsister was playing on you?

The last thought wasn't far-fetched considering all the other horrible things she had done to you. But for once you hope with all your might that it wasn't.

You glanced at your phone, seeing his message still displayed. The word "Hi." seemed to hold so much promise.

For the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to hope that maybe, just maybe, you could be happy.

****

The weeks that followed were amazing.

Every time your phone buzzed with a message from Kylian, your heart skipped a beat. He was surprisingly persistent, often texting just to check in, share something funny, or ask about your day. Each conversation felt like a lifeline, a small escape from the turmoil of your daily life.

It felt good to have someone care.

You met Kylian a few more times after that encounter at the bookstore.

He would invite you to charming little places tucked away in the quieter parts of the city, where the two of you could talk for hours without interruption. Where you could forget the bad shit in your life and simply enjoy his company.

Kylian was easy to talk to, his presence soothing and his laughter infectious. He listened with genuine interest when you spoke, his eyes never leaving yours as if you were the girl person in the world. The only thing that mattered.

He introduced you to a side of life you had never known—A life you had only ever dreamed about. A complete contrast to the coldness you were used to. A glimpse of what could be if you dared to dream.

But as much as light Kylian brought into your life, doubts gnawed at you.

How long until he left you? How long until he saw the bruises you couldn’t hide? The pain you couldn't mask?

You feared the day he would look at you with pity or, worse, regret. Each time he texted or called, a small part of you braced for disappointment.

But that day never came.

Instead, he surprised you. Time and time again. Like right now.

You stood outside the bookstore, your breath fogging up in the cool evening air. Kylian had texted you earlier, asking if you could meet him after your shift.

His messages were usually funny and easygoing, but this one had a sort of seriousness that made you nervous.

As you waited, you replayed last night. He had Facetimed you late into the night, just to chat about nothing and everything. Like you usually did, but something was different that time. He was flirting with you.

At first, you thought it was just your imagination. How could Kylian Mbappé possibly have a crush on you? But as the night wore on and the playful glint in his eyes and compliments got more and more obvious, you couldn't deny it anymore.

Not with the way he looked at you through the screen. The way his voice softened when he said your name—it all pointed to one undeniable truth.

One you were too afraid to face.

"Hey," a familiar voice called out, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You turned to see Kylian's head peeking out of his G-Wagon, waving at you. His smile was as bright as ever, making your heart race.

"Hey," you replied, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies in your stomach. You walked over quickly, excited.

As you approached the car, he opened the passenger door for you, always the gentleman. "Hop in," he said, his tone cheerful but with an undertone of something more serious.

You settled into the seat, the warmth of the car contrasting to the chilly evening outside. Kylian glanced at you, his eyes lingering on your face a moment longer than usual. "You okay?" he asked, his voice softening.

You nodded, offering a small smile. "Yeah, I'm good. Just a bit tired from work."

He seemed to accept your answer, though his eyes still held a hint of concern. "I thought we could hang out at my place," he said, starting the car.

Your heart skipped a beat.

"Sure," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the flurry of emotions within you. You had never been to his place. The idea of spending time at his place felt both thrilling and intimidating.

The drive was filled with easy conversation, Kylian telling you about his day at training and a funny story about Hakimi and Ousmane. You laughed at his stories, feeling more at ease with each passing minute.

It wasn't long before you arrived at his apartment, marveling at the modern building towering above you. Kylian led you inside, his hand resting lightly on your lower back, a touch that made your skin tingle.

His place was spacious and elegant, filled with personal touches that made it feel warm and inviting. You noticed photographs of his family, friends, and teammates scattered around, giving you an intimate glimpse into his life.

"Make yourself at home," he said, smiling as he gestured to the living room. "Want something to drink? Water, juice, maybe some tea?"

"Tea please," you replied, settling onto the large plush couch. You watched as he moved to the kitchen, his movements fluid and graceful. It was hard to believe that he was real sometimes. You felt lucky that you got to know him like this. See him like this.

When he returned with two steaming mugs, you accepted yours gratefully, wrapping your hands around it for warmth. He sat beside you, close enough that you could feel the heat from his body.

"So," he began, his tone casual but his eyes serious. "I've been meaning to talk to you about something."

Oh, no.

Your heart skipped a beat, anxiety creeping in. Was this it? Was this him leaving you? Telling you he didn't want to be friends with you anymore?

But instead of delivering bad news, Kylian's expression softened, his gaze gentle yet determined. "I've really enjoyed getting to know you," he said sincerely, his voice quiet in the cozy ambiance of his living room. "And I want to be honest with you."

You held your breath, unsure of where his words would lead.

"I like you," he continued, his eyes never leaving yours. "More than just as a friend."

Your heart pounded in your chest, disbelief evident on your face. What?

"I've been thinking a lot about us," he confessed, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "About you. And every time I do, I realize how much I care about you. Want to be with you." He reached out, gently holding your hands in his large ones.

Your mind reeled, trying to process his words. Did he really mean what he was saying? Or was this all some cruel joke?

You glanced at him, your eyes meeting his, searching for any hint of it being a lie. But all you saw was sincerity. The same sincerity you had come to know from him.

He truly believed what he was saying. But how?

"What do you mean?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Your chest fluttered at the thought of him liking you romantically.

"I mean I want to be with you," he said simply, his eyes holding yours. "As your boyfriend if that's something you want too."

Your heart pounded harder at his words, and you felt a rush of emotions flood through you—surprise, joy, and a lingering trace of fear. The idea of someone like Kylian wanting to be with you romantically seemed almost too good to be true.

"I... I don't know what to say," you admitted, your voice trembling slightly despite your efforts to steady it. You looked down at your hands, unsure of how to process your feelings.

Kylian squeezed your hands gently, his touch reassuring. "You don't have to say anything right now," he said softly. "Take your time. I just wanted you to know how I feel."

His words were comforting, his presence grounding. You glanced up at him, meeting his gaze once more. "I... I like you too," you confessed, "But... I don't know if you should." Your voice was shaky as you whispered the words.

Kylian's brows furrowed at your words.

"Why shouldn't I?" he asked gently, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. His concern was evident in his eyes, but there was also a determination that showed he would be easily dissuaded.

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before speaking. "Because... because I'm not... I'm not who you think I am," you admitted quietly, feeling vulnerable. "There are things about me... things I haven't told you."

Kylian listened attentively, his expression softening as he waited for you to continue. "I have a lot of baggage," you explained, choosing your words carefully. "And... and sometimes things happen that... that I can't control." You glanced down, unable to meet his gaze. "I don't want to burden you with my problems."

He was silent for a moment, processing your words. When he spoke again, his voice was steady, soft, loving. "You're not a burden," he said firmly, lifting your chin gently so you had to meet his gaze. The intensity in them made your heart beat faster. "Whatever you've been through, whatever you're facing... you don't have to face it alone." His eyes searched yours. "I care about you," he continued softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "And I want to be there for you, in whatever way you'll let me."

Tears welled up in your eyes. "But... what if... what if you find out things about me and you..." Your voice broke, the fear of rejection clawing at your heart. You couldn't lose him. Not with how well he treats you. How he makes you feel. You need him.

Kylian's expression softened even more, his eyes desperately trying to convey the deep affection he felt for you. "I'm not going anywhere," he said gently, his words filled with conviction. "I want to know all of you, Y/N. The good, the bad, everything." He paused, giving you a moment to absorb his words. "If you'll let me."

You searched his eyes, finding only sincerity. You were so used to people lying to you that you had become a master at sniffing it out. But his eyes held no lie. Only truth. A truth that made your heart explode.

Maybe, just maybe, this could be real. A chance at happiness you never thought possible.

"I... I want to try," you said finally, your voice wavering. You cleared your throat and repeated, "I want to be with you."

A smile spread across Kylian's face at your words. Yes, he thought doing a little victory dance in his head. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours, his hands still gently holding yours. "Thank you," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "Thank you for giving us a chance."

The stare between the two of you grew heavy, a longing for something more.

As if sensing your thoughts, Kylian's eyes dropped to your lips, his gaze lingering there a moment before moving back to meet your eyes. "May I kiss you?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

You felt a shiver run down your spine at the thought of his lips on yours. "Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible but dripping with need.

Without hesitation, Kylian leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that felt like coming home. It was a slow, tender kiss that sent shivers down your spine and made your heart flutter in your chest. Your first kiss.

Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in him, your hearts beating in tandem.

When the kiss ended, it left you breathless, Kylian smiling against your lips. "You're mine now," he whispered, his voice filled with affection. "And I'm never letting you go."

****

The warm air from the heater greeted you as you walked further into your house. You were just coming back from the library after completing a group project that was due next week.

It had gone well, despite the stress the people you were working with brought you.

Your mind wandered briefly to Kylian, as it often did now whenever you found a moment of peace. You guys were official now. And every moment has been nothing but pure bliss.

You finally felt like you were starting to understand what happiness was.

You closed the door behind you sighing with relief, grateful for the warmth after enduring the cold at the bus stop. You missed the first bus and had to wait for the second one in the freezing cold. All you wanted now was to get into bed and text Kylian until you feel asleep.

You were taking off your shoes when you felt it. A hand yanking the back of your hair, pulling your head backward. You tried to scream but a slap silenced you.

"Thought you were smart, didn't you?" your stepmother spat, her voice filled with malice. "Thought you could fool us? You whore!" She let go of your hair, giving you a hard shove. You stumbled backward, landing on your hands and knees.

"So this is why you've been coming back home with that stupid smile on your face every day. You're fucking Kylian Mbappé," she hissed, her eyes blazing with anger.

Your heart sank.

How did she know? Had your stepsister told her? How did they find out?

You had to get out of there or they would...

You scrambled to your feet, ready to run, but a kick in your stomach sent you falling back down. Your stepmother loomed over you, her eyes wild with rage. "You fucking slut!" She kicked you hard in the ribs. "You little whore!" She kicked you again, making you double over in pain. "You will regret ever looking at him," she threatened as she continued to beat you. You were powerless against her kicks and slaps.

She stopped finally, panting. "Get up," she snarled, her voice filled with hate. "Now!"

You struggled to get up, your body screaming in pain. Your stepsister was watching you with hatred in her eyes. She was holding your phone. The same phone that had the lock screen image of you and Kylian from a recent outing. His arm was around your shoulders, both of you laughing at something silly he had said.

The picture had been taken by a fan who had asked to take a photo with Kylian. But she had noticed him put his arm around you, and instead of asking for a selfie, she had snapped a photo of the two of you instead.

It was your favorite picture, something you looked at whenever you needed to be reminded that all of this was real. That you weren't dreaming. That someone like Kylian truly cared for you.

You felt tears welling up in your eyes as you watched your stepsister throw your phone on the floor, her heel stomping on it.

The screen shattered under her heel.

You wanted to cry, but you were too scared. You had seen the anger in your stepmother's eyes. You knew you would be dead if you cried.

"You'll pay for this," your stepsister sneered, glaring at you with all the hate in the world.

You yelped as your stepmother grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back. "You'll learn your place," she snarled, her breath hot against your ear. "And we'll teach you."

A whimper escaped you as she dragged you toward the basement, your stepsister following close behind.

You knew what was coming.

Your heart raced with fear as they dragged you towards the basement, the familiar dread tightening your chest. Each step hurt you as they dragged you down them. They would leave bruises that would last weeks. You know this from experience.

Your mind raced looking for a way out, but finding none. There never was. But for some reason, you held out hope.

The basement door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit room that smelled of dampness and decay. This was where they often took their anger out on you, where their punishments lurked in the shadows, waiting to be inflicted.

You trembled as they shoved you forward, the concrete floor cold against your hands and knees.

"Please," you managed to choke out, your voice barely a whisper. But your stepmother's grip on your hair tightened, silencing any further plea. The air thickened as they circled around you. Like vultures. Predators.

And you were the prey.

"You think you're better than us," your stepsister spat, her face contorted with venom. "Fucking him just because he's famous. Pathetic. He doesn't want you anyway, look at you."

You bit back tears, fighting the urge to scream, knowing it would only provoke them further. Her words stung more than the cuts on your body. And your mind started to believe her.

Maybe she was right.

Pain seared through you as another blow landed. In the haze of torment, you closed your eyes, desperately clinging to the memory of Kylian's warmth, his gentle words.

His face, his smile, the way he defended you against the world. You would miss him.

You knew this was the end. You could feel it.

Your body was numb and you were dipping in and out of consciousness, the pain and fear overwhelming. As darkness threatened to consume you, memories of Kylian flooded your mind.

You recalled the first time you met him, how his genuine kindness had shattered the walls around your heart. The quiet moments stolen between you, where he'd hold your hand and promise you a future where no one could hurt you. Leaving sweet kisses on your lips.

You'll miss his eyes the most, you think. Those deep, comforting eyes that always saw through your pain and whispered hope into your soul. Even now, battered and broken, he's all you can think of.

As darkness closed in, you clung to the image of him, willing yourself to survive for him, for the promise of a better tomorrow he represented.

Despite the agony, a faint smile flickered on your lips as you drifted into unconsciousness, imagining his arms around you, shielding you from the cruelty of the world.

****

Kylian was a man of instinct.

It's why he dominated on the field and off. His senses were sharp, attuned to the slightest shifts in energy around him. Never missing the slightest detail.

That's why, when he hadn't heard from you all evening, a knot of unease twisted in his gut.

You had always texted him after getting home, no matter how late. It was a routine for you. And you were a very routine-oriented person, so he knew you didn't forget.

As the hours ticked by without a word from you, Kylian's concern grew into a gnawing worry.

He replayed the events of the day in his mind, recalling your smile as you parted ways after he'd dropped you off at the library. The memory brought a bittersweet smile to his lips, but it did little to ease his growing anxiety.

He had offered to pick you but you had declined. You could tell he was tired from training and you didn't know when you would be done. So you told him you would take the bus instead and promised to call him.

He tried calling you, but each attempt went straight to voicemail. Panic began to creep into his chest, tightening with each unanswered ring. He paced his living room, his mind racing through possibilities, none of them pleasant.

Finally, unable to wait any longer, Kylian made a decision. Grabbing his car keys, he headed out into the freezing night, his thoughts consumed with finding you, needing to ensure you were safe.

The drive to your house felt agonizingly long. His foot pressed harder on the accelerator, urging the car to move faster. When he finally pulled up outside your home, a chilling sense of dread settled over him. Something wasn't right. At all.

He approached the front door cautiously, his heart hammering in his chest. The warm glow of light spilled out from the windows, contrasting sharply with the darkness that seemed to loom over the house. Kylian hesitated for only a moment before reaching out to knock.

No response.

His knocks grew louder, more insistent, but still, no one answered. Frustration and fear surged within him as he contemplated his next move. With a surge of determination, he tried the doorknob, praying it would yield. To his relief and horror, it did.

As he stepped inside, the silence of the house enveloped him like a suffocating blanket. "Y/N? Mrs. Y/L/N?" he called out, his voice echoing through the hallway. No reply came.

The uneasiness deepened with each step he took further into the house. Every room he checked yielded no sign of you or anyone else. That is, until he reached the basement door.

A chill ran down his spine as he slowly opened the creaking door, revealing a scene that shattered his heart and ignited a rage unlike any he had ever felt. There you were, battered and bruised, huddled on the cold concrete floor.

Unconscious.

Kylian's world froze as he took in the sight before him. His heart shattered into a million pieces at the sight of you, vulnerable and broken on the basement floor. Rage surged through him, raw and primal, as he knelt beside you, gently brushing a strand of hair from your bruised face.

"Y/N, baby" he whispered, his voice choked with anguish and disbelief. "What have they done to you?"

His hands trembled as he carefully lifted you into his arms, cradling you against his chest. The bruises on your skin, the cuts that marred your once vibrant spirit, filled him with a fury he could barely contain. Tears blurred his vision as he held you close, murmuring words of comfort and reassurance, though he knew you couldn't hear him in your unconscious state.

He doesn't remember when or how he called the ambulance, but he did.

All he could focus on was you, your safety, your well-being. The minutes waiting for help felt like an eternity, his heart pounding with fear.

When the paramedics arrived, Kylian reluctantly let them take you, his hands lingering on yours as they wheeled you away. He couldn't bear to leave your side, but he knew he had to. He had justice to seek for what had been done to you.

He would make sure they rot. They would burn for what they did to you.

Hours passed in a blur of interviews, statements, and waiting. Kylian refused to rest, his mind consumed with thoughts of you, praying silently for your recovery. He felt powerless, haunted by the image of your broken form in that basement, unable to protect you when you needed him most.

Finally, a doctor approached him with news. You were stable, physically battered but stable. Your ribs were broken and there were numerous bruises and cuts. Burns covered your arms but the doctor said they were old.

The burns he had seeen the first time he met you.

With each word that exited the doctor's he felt himself get weaker and weaker.

Just what have you been going through? And how had he not seen it? He felt like a horrible boyfriend. He had promised to protect but he failed. He failed you.

Kylian stayed by your side as much as the hospital allowed, holding your hand, talking to you, silently willing you to wake up and tell him that you would be okay.

He had called his mother the first night he stayed at the hospital. He knew he would have to leave you to answer police questions and the only person he trusted you to was her.

She was beside him the second he called. She knew something was wrong. He couldn't hide it anymore.

He had broken down in his mother's arms. Telling her everything.

She listened and didn't interrupt him once. She hugged him tighter, kissed his cheek, and whispered 'I'm proud of you' over and over. Then she sat next to him, waiting for you to wake up.

****

The first thing you felt when you woke up was his hand in yours. You blinked, disoriented, trying to recall what happened, but your mind was hazy and clouded. One of your eyes was swollen shut, making it hard to see clearly.

Pain radiated through your body, each breath sending sharp stabs through your chest. You groaned softly, the sound catching Kylian's attention instantly.

"Y/N," he whispered, there was a tremble to his words. "You're awake."

You turned your head towards him, your good eye focusing on his tear-streaked face. His fingers tightened around yours, as if afraid you might slip away again.

"Kylian..." Your voice was weak, barely more than a rasp, but the relief in his eyes was palpable.

"Shh, don't try to talk," he murmured, gently brushing his thumb over the back of your hand. "You're safe now. You're in the hospital. Everything's going to be okay."

You tried to nod, but the effort was too much. Instead, you squeezed his hand lightly, a silent acknowledgment of his words. Kylian's gaze never left your face, his eyes filled with love. Anguish.

The weight of your suffering was etched deeply into his features. He wished he could take your pain away. Switch places with you. Shield you. Protect you from all this. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I should have been there. I should have known."

You wanted to reassure him, to tell him it wasn't his fault, but the pain and exhaustion were too overwhelming. Instead, you gave his hand another gentle squeeze, hoping he understood.

Kylian leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as if trying to transfer his strength to you. The quiet hum of the hospital room, the distant beeping of machines, and the rhythmic pulse of your heartbeat were the only sounds, grounding him in this moment.

His mother, who had been silently watching from the corner of the room, approached with a soft smile. "She's awake, Kylian. That's a good sign," she whispered, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Kylian nodded, though the tightness in his chest didn't ease. He was grateful for his mother's presence. Her calm strength a lifeline in this sea of chaos. She had always been his rock, and now she would be yours. Extending that strength to you.

She turned to you and softly introduced herself, "Hi, Y/N. I'm Fayza, Kylian's mother. You're safe now, darling. We will take care of you. You just make sure you get as much rest as possible."

You managed a faint smile, your eyes tearing up at the warmth and kindness in her eyes. For the first time in your life, you felt the love of a mother.

Her words washed over you like water, drowning you in the security that only a maternal figure can make you feel. The tears that you desperately tried to hold in spilled over, tracing silent paths down your cheeks.

Fayza reached out, gently wiping them away with her palm and you found yourself leaning into her touch. But she didn't seem to mind. The room, despite its clinical sterility, seemed a little less cold with her there.

The days that followed were a blur of medical treatments and police interviews. Kylian stayed by your side.

He was there every moment he could be. Fayza took turns with him, ensuring you were never alone. Bring you food that she made and making sure you have everything you need. Especially love.

The police investigation moved forward, and Kylian was relentless in his pursuit of justice for you. He spent hours with the authorities, providing every detail he could remember, every scrap of evidence he could find. His determination was fueled by the image of you in that basement, a memory that haunted him and drove him forward.

Throughout your recovery, Kylian's teammates and friends offered their support. You were scared to meet them at first, afraid they would hate you for dragging their friend into your mess.

But they loved you. Becoming super overprotective and treating you like a little sister. They visited the hospital often, bringing flowers, cards, food. Anything you wanted.

Physical therapy was the hardest.

Your body was broken, to say the least. Fractured collar bone, multiple broken ribs, a bruised lung, and a concussion that seemed to cloud your thinking.

Everyday was a battle a war within yourself.

Kylian was your constant companion through it all, encouraging you during the grueling sessions, holding your hand when the pain became unbearable.

It was weird at first having someone care for you like that.

But Kylian made it easy.

He learned your routine, anticipated your needs, and cheered your small victories as if they were monumental achievements. His love and patience never wavered, even on your toughest days. He was your anchor.

The worst of it was when he saw your scars for the first time helping you get ready for a bath.

He had been so careful, so gentle, as he helped you undress, but the moment his eyes fell on them, his breath caught in his throat. The sight of them, a cruel testament to the pain you had endured, tore at his heart.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, feeling suddenly exposed, vulnerable under his gaze. Ugly. He was the first guy to see you like this and you hated how this bruised body was all you had to offer. But he didn't mind.

In fact that was the moment he realized he loved you.

His fingers traced the lines of your scars, as if to erase them. To erase the horrible past that caused them. "You're beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Every part of you."

You blinked back tears, overwhelmed by his words. "I don't feel strong," you admitted softly, your voice trembling.

Kylian cupped your face gently in his hands, his eyes locked on yours. "You survived," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "That's strength, Y/N. You're here, fighting every day. That's what matters. And if you can't be strong, let me be your strength. Let me protect you. Let me love you."

You froze at his last sentence.

He had never said those words to you and neither have you to him. Your heart leaped in your chest at the raw honesty of which he said.

This time you didn't hesitate, didn't ponder.

You'd know for a while now that you loved him. How could you not? When he was the man that you prayed for. Your rock, your refuge, your protector, your lover. You loved every inch of this man and Finally. Finally you could tell him.

"I love you too, Kylian Mbappé."

He held you close that night, placing kisses on your shoulder as he held you from behind whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

****

Two years later...

You stood in front of the window, watching the tranquil view. The girl who reflected in the glass looked nothing like the girl from years ago. Your smile was radiant, your eyes sparkling with a happiness that only true love could bring.

Kylian had proposed to you six months ago, after the trial was over. Your family had been found guilty. Turns out your stepmother and sister were on the run. They thought they killed you that night so they fled, along with your father.

The thought of them being okay with just leaving your corpse to rot in the basement made your stomach turn every time you thought about it.

You shook the thoughts away. you weren't about to let them ruin your day. not anymore.

Your wedding was small. A private ceremony with close friends and family. You had chosen a beautiful vineyard as the setting, overlooking rolling hills and sun-kissed grapevines. The familiar scent of roses and freshly cut grass filled the air, mingling with the laughter of your guests.

The afternoon sun bathed everything in a warm, golden glow, casting long shadows that danced along the paths between rows of vines.

Kylian stood at the end of the aisle, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that still made your heart skip a beat. He wore a classic black tuxedo that accentuated his tall, athletic frame. Looking absolutely amazing.

You really married him.

Ethan walked you down the aisle. The two of you had gotten really close after Kylian had officially introduced you. He considered you family, a big sister. Someone he could come to for advice, which he often did. He was super protective sometimes rivaling Kylian.

Which was saying something.

Ever since Kylian found you in that basement, battered and bruised, he felt this urge to always be by your side. This urgent need. It scared him sometimes, how much he loved you. But he wouldn't have it any other way.

You were his whole world. The love of his life. His last love. The reason his heart beats.

As Ethan placed your hand in Kylian's, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting everyone in a warm, golden light. Kylian looked like he was glowing. You will never forget that view for as long as you live.

Now that you were closer, you realized he was crying. You smiled at your groom, feeling the weight of your love for him in your chest.

Kylian's eyes locked on yours, love pouring out of them. You knew he would love you for all eternity. And you loved him the same. You were home.

"I love you," you whispered softly, looking into his eyes.

Kylian's lips curved into a sweet smile, his voice filled with emotion. "Je t'aime, mon âme."

The officiant pronounced you husband and wife, and Kylian swept you into a passionate kiss, the cheers of your guests fading into the background. In his arms, you felt whole, complete.

And you both knew that no matter what came next, you would face it together. You had found each other in this chaotic world, and nothing else mattered.

The feel of arms wrapping around your waist pull you out of your daydream as soft kisses are placed on your shoulder. You lean back into Kylian's embrace, smiling as his lips travel up your neck.

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" he asks, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

You turn around, meeting his eyes.

"Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you," you reply honestly. "About how much you've changed my life."

Kylian's arms tighten around you. "You're the one that's changed my life, Y/N. You're my reason for living." He tilts your chin up, capturing your gaze. "And I promise you, mon amour, that I'll love you until the day I die. That I'll make you happy for all eternity. Je t'aime." He seals his promise with a burning kiss.

The type that leaves your skin burning and heat pooling between your thighs.

His arms around you grow tighter as his kiss grows deeper. Soon he's walking you backwards to the bed. You fall on your back with a laugh but it's silenced by another kiss.

He starts to take off his shirt. You can barely think straight at the sight of his abs. Even after two years of having him to yourself you still get weak in the knees. Your panties already damp from that kiss.

His lips start traveling south as he pulls up the shirt you're wearing(his), exposing your body to him. The softness of the bed comforts your back as his heavy form press more into you. You gasp into his wet mouth, feeling his covered hardness press against your thigh.

His hands push up your shirt and massage the softness of your tummy on his way up to your covered breast. He backs from your lips to look at your fluttering eyes. “Can I?” his voice deep with lust and adoration for you, no matter how many times the two of you do this, he’s never lost the habit of asking.

“Always,” you whisper against his swollen lips, pulling him back into your lips. He lifts your shirt over your head and unclasps your bra, rubbing his thumbs over your harding buds. You moan from the contact into his mouth, a soft groan from his throat in response.

“Kylian,” your voice goes up an octave from the fire of his touches.

“Trésor,” he responds, kissing down your chin to your neck, placing soft kisses into your supple skin. “Je t'aime.”

His fingers slip down to the hem of your panties, pulling them off in one quick motion. He kisses down your belly, placing light kisses all the way down to your inner thigh. You whine, spreading your thighs in invitation.

“Patience, my love,” he chuckles, his breath fanning over your covered heated core. “I want to make you come on my tongue.”

Your eyes flutter close at his words.

He tugs your jeans and underwear off, discarding them somewhere in the spacious hotel room.

His grip is tight on your thighs as he gets down so he's at eye level with your cunt. He groans at the sight, wet and inviting.

A treat.

He places a soft kiss on the folds before taking in as much of you as he can into his mouth. He's good, really good. Your body arches and twitches with every moan ripped from your throat.

He's messy too, with loud slurping and quick inhales mixed with groaning coming from between your legs. You get louder as a coil begins to tighten in your gut, feeling his lips wrap around your clit, sucking it feverishly.

"You taste so fucking good baby. Mhm, love this pussy. Love you." He whispers against your folds. The vibrations send sparks flying throughout your whole body. You can feel yourself getting closer.

A white heat floods your senses as the coil snaps, reaching your toes as you spasm. Kylian drinks up every drop, getting drunk on your taste, chuckling as you push against his head to get him away.

He sits up, chin glistening with your arousal eyes locked on yours, and wipes the excess off with the back of his hand, smirking down at you with lust-blown eyes. “You’re so fucking pretty like this, mon coeur,” He leans down and kisses your neck, nibbling on your skin, making you gasp and whimper.

“Kylian,” you whimper as he presses your leg against your chest. His smile flatters once again, the indents of his nails on your skin now noticeable. He hovers over you, his body covering yours, your small frame drowning in him.

His hand trails down and your eyes follow. He wasn’t small by any means of the word, very much the opposite. Girthy, long, and beautiful. You love every inch of him.

You place your hand against his jaw, bringing his attention to your face. Flushed, teary-eyed, lips puffy and bruised. “Please, I need you,” you whisper, voice already showing signs of another orgasm. Just the thought of him inside you was enough.

He leans down and kisses your nose, pressing his forehead against yours. And with a nod, his weeping tip pushes past your folds and is embraced by soft, clingy gummy walls.

He groans at the feeling, kissing away the tears of pure pleasure that break from your lashes at the intrusion. “You're so tight. Feels so good. Putain,” he whispers into your ear, holding you close as he pushes in. His towering form shadows the lights from your eyes, the difference in size making your head dizzy.

He lets out a startled moan as his hips slam into yours, listening to your guttural moans. “Merde, breathe, breathe baby,” he coos, massaging the tensed muscles of your stomach and hips.

You’re not a virgin by any means but with him, it always feels like the first time. It could have been his size, it could have been that he was the only man to have you. Or maybe, it was because this connection meant more than sex.

You're enveloped in his love. This is otherworldly. Nothing could ever make you feel like this. Feel this good. Nothing. No one.

You giggle and that giggle turns into a laugh, Kylian staring confused, eyebrow-raising.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh but I’m just so in love with you,” You smile, rubbing his arms and pulling him closer. And you mean that with every fiber of your being. You never thought you'd be here. In the arms of the man you love. The man who loves you. It's bliss.

“I love you,” you say again to his shocked face, nothing but the truth in your eyes. You wiggle your leg out from under him and wrap them around his waist, heels tapping his toned ass. Kylian shivers before engulfing you in his embrace, tucking his face into your hair.

“Say it again,” he whispers, rocking his hips into you.

“I love you,” you groan, bliss shooting up your spine. His pace was slow, deep.

“Again,” he hisses, you said it again and again and again, with each time his thrust increases. His breathing is shallow and the wet sounds of your bodies echo through the room. Your poor neighbors. “I love you,” he chokes out through his pants and moans.

The heat of his body invades yours and you feel like you're melting into each other. Sweat from his chest drips onto your lashes and you blink it out, moans bouncing off the walls as his pace quickens, more forceful, slamming into that spot deep inside of you.

“Ohmygod,” you squeal, “Kylian–I-” he slams his lips into yours swallowing all of your sounds. His voice pitches up as his moans increase, breathing heavily onto your face.

His pretty face scrunches up as a loud grunt rips from his mouth, the warmth being dumped inside of you sending you over, clamping down on him harder, gaining a wince from him.

He places his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged as he stares into your eyes before collapsing onto you, spent and satisfied. His weight comforting, grounding.

You lay there for a while, you rubbing his back as he places kisses on your neck and whispers praises in your ear.

And to think that you would have this forever, have him forever. The thought brings a smile to your lips and you kiss his shoulder.

This man was your everything. your love, your protector, your soulmate. you were his world, his heart beating only for you. He healed you with his love.

Your Kylian.

-Bianca🌻

---

do you write for trent alexander-arnold?? 🤍

I do. I have a fic on him written already but I haven't really gotten requests for yet so I haven't written more.

Hmm I’ll just request (please make this long and in depth) of like it being Kylians birthday and readers never had a birthday or anything and makes him like the coolest gifts like a shirt with him and the eiffel tower on it and a bunch of cool diys and her being shy and embarrassed and him just being so shocked that she made him something and thinking its so cool. Can we please get Kylians pov too and him telling his family about the gifts and the reader also getting him some luxury stuff too

You got it😉

Birthday Boy

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — You surprise Kylian for his birthday.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Kylian Mbappé x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 2k

Warnings! FLUFF, birthday boyy, cute reader, insecurities, the request basically covers the rest,

Fuck.

You weren't ready for this.

You're really not ready for this. You don't know how to do any of this. But it was his birthday, and you knew he would be upset if you didn't get him anything. He deserves something special though.

You're standing in his apartment, nervously fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. You have no idea what time he's going to be home from training, but it couldn't be too long now.

You have a few gifts for him, and you're really proud of them. Well, proud wasn't exactly the word. Nervous was more like it. He might hate them, and that would be really embarrassing.

You looked at the clock on the wall and gasp when you realized what the time was. He's going to be home any minute now. You quickly run to the kitchen, hiding behind the counter with all of his gifts on it. You hold your breath and hope that you won't make a fool of yourself.

You heard the door open and his footsteps as he walks into the living room. You slowly peer around the corner and see him looking at you in confusion.

“Hey, are you alright? Why are you hiding behind the counter?” he asks, walking towards you.

You blush and look down, playing with the hem of your shirt again. “Happy B-Birthday! I-I got you some gifts,” you stammer out, trying to sound cheerful but failing miserably.

He looks at you in surprise, face lighting up in excitement. “You got me presents?!” he exclaims, running to you and pulling you out from behind the counter.

He spins you around so you're facing him and then pulls you into a hug, lifting you off the ground. “Thank you, trésor,” he whispers in your ear.

You blush and smile shyly, hugging him back.

He sets you back on your feet and pulls away slightly to look at you. “Why are you blushing so much?” he asks, a smile on his lips.

You bite your lip and look away from him. “I just don't know if you're going to like them,” you mumble, looking down at your feet. You look up to see him looking at you curiously.

“What makes you think I won't like them?” he asks, looking confused.

“I-I don't know,” you reply, looking back down at your feet. “Well, they're not that expensive or anything. So you might not like them.”

He laughs, a soft smile on his face. “That doesn't matter at all,” he says, grabbing your hand and tugging you towards the counter. He lets go of your hand and pulls all the gifts over in front of you. “Tell me about these,” he asks, sitting down at the counter and gesturing for you to sit next to him. You do as he says, biting your lip.

He picks up the first gift, which is wrapped in green wrapping paper. “This one is just some candy,” you mumble, watching him tear the paper off. He opens the box and smiles widely when he sees the chocolate inside.

“Mmm, I love chocolate,” he says, popping one of the chocolates into his mouth.

Next he picks up a small, blue box. “This is some new headphones,” you explain, watching as he opens the box and pulls out the headphones.

“Cool, I needed some new ones,” he replies, putting them on and fiddling with them for a second. “I love them!” he exclaims, smiling at you.

You bite your lip again as he reaches for the final gift, which is a small, white box. He opens it and pulls out a shirt. His eyes widen when he sees what's on it, and he looks at you in shock.

“You made this?” he asks, staring at the shirt in disbelief.

You nod your head shyly, biting your lip. “Y-Yeah,” you mumble.

He holds the shirt up and smiles, looking at the drawing on it. He'd drawn a picture of him and the Eiffel tower in the background. The picture had 'Happy Birthday' written above it in swirly letters.

“Trésor, I love it,” he whispers, looking at you in awe. “Can I wear it now?”

You nod your head excitedly, watching as he pulls off his shirt and puts on the new one. He turns around to face you and smiles. You blush and look away from him, fidgeting with your hands. He walks towards you and lifts your chin up with his hand so that you're looking at him.

“I love it,” he repeats. “Thank you.”

You bite your lip and smile shyly, nodding your head.

He pulls you into a hug and kisses your forehead. “Thank you so much, trésor,” he whispers in your ear.

You blush and hug him back, smiling. You can feel his heart beating against your chest, and you have to suppress a sigh. He smells amazing. He always smells amazing. Like home. Like a warm hug on a cold day. You love how he smells.

He pulls away from you slightly and kisses your lips softly. “I'll be right back, I need to call my family,” he says, kissing your lips again before turning and walking towards the couch.

You watch him go, biting your lip and blushing. You turn and walk into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge and sitting at the counter to drink it. You look out the window, watching as the sun sets behind the Eiffel tower in the distance. You sigh happily, smiling. It's so pretty. You could get used to seeing that every night.

Kylian sits on the couch, watching as you drink your water. He can't help but smile as he watches you. you are so cute. He looks down at the shirt he's wearing and his heart flutters. It was so adorable. He had never met anyone who could draw as well as you could. It was perfect.

He pulls out his phone and dials Ethan's number, waiting for him to answer. He picks up on the first ring. "Happy birthday, bro!" Ethan exclaims.

Kylian laughs and leans back against the couch. "Merci, merci. Where's mom? I tried calling her earlier but she didn't answer." he asks. It hurt him not to spend his birthday with his family this year.

He's been so busy lately that he's barely had time for anything but football. He was starting to get homesick. Which is why he's so grateful for you. You keep him company and keep his mind off of missing his family.

"She's right here, I'll go get her. So how did you celebrate your birthday?" Ethan asks, sounding excited.

Kylian smiles and looks over at you. "I haven't yet," he replies, watching as you stand up and walk towards the kitchen. "But Y/N got me some amazing gifts. I'm so happy."

Ethan laughs on the other end of the line. "Aww, that's so sweet! What did she get you?"

Kylian grins as he tells Ethan about all the gifts you got him. He can hear his brother making sounds of amazement and excitement as he talks. "And then there was this one shirt," Kylian starts. "She made it herself."

"Wait, what? That's awesome!" Ethan exclaims. "Show me."

Kylian laughs and places the phone on the coffe table, standing up to show Ethan the shirt. He hears Ethan gasp in surprise and smile. "Wow, she really made that?"

"Yeah, I know," Kylian says, sitting back down on the couch. "It's amazing."

He hears Ethan laugh. "She's so cute! You should propose to her already!"

Kylian laughs. "Ethan, she's been my girlfriend for like eight months," he replies. "I'm not proposing yet."

"Aww, come on," Ethan pouts. "You know you want to."

Kylian sighs and rolls his eyes. "Shut up," he replies, laughing.

His mother's figure approches the phone. "Is that Kylian I hear?"

He grins. "Oui, maman," he replies, eyes tearing up slightly at the sight of her. He misses her so much.

She smiles widely. "Bonjour, mon amour," she says, leaning forward so that he can see her better.

He smiles at her and reaches out to touch the screen. "Bonjour, maman," he repeats, voice shaking slightly.

His mother's smile falters for a second when she sees his face, and then it's back to normal. "Are you okay, baby?" she asks.

Kylian nods his head. "Oui, I'm fine. Just a bit homesick," he explains. "But Y/N is keeping me company and making sure I don't miss you guys too much."

His mom nods her head. "Oh good, I'm glad she's there for you," she says. "How was your day? Did you have any fun?" she asks, smiling.

"Not really," he replies, sighing. "We were training all day, and it was exhausting. I'm glad it's finally over and I get a break. But Y/N got me some amazing gifts," he adds, holding up the shirt. "She made this one herself."

His mom's eyes widen in surprise as she stares at the shirt. "Wow, that's beautiful," she exclaims, smiling. "You must have been a good boyfriend," she teases.

Kylian laughs. "I try my best," he replies, grinning.

His mom laughs. "I know you do, baby. You deserve someone who loves you like that." Kylian nods his head, thinking about you. You do love him. He knows that. It's not hard to tell when you look at him the way you do. And he hopes you never stop. Because he can't imagine living without you.

"I have to go, maman," he says after a few minutes. "But I love you and I'll talk to you later," he adds, smiling.

His mom nods her head and smiles. "I love you too, mon amour," she replies, leaning forward to kiss the screen. Kylian smiles and kisses back before saying goodbye and hanging up.

He looks over at you and smiles when he sees you walking towards him. "I love you," he says as you sit next to him. You blush and smile shyly. "I love you too," you reply. And you do. So much it hurts sometimes. But it's a good kind of hurt. A happy kind of hurt.

And you know you'll never stop loving him. Never stop loving him and cherishing him. He's your everything. Your soulmate. Your heart. And you're his. And that's all that matters. That's all that will ever matter.

"So…How are we celebrating tonight?" He asks you. You smile and shrug. "I don't know, whatever you want to do" you reply. Kylian laughs and pulls you into his lap, kissing you softly. You blush and kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. He pulls away slightly and smiles at you.

"What do you think about going out to eat somewhere nice?" he asks. You shrug and nod your head, smiling.

"I would love to," you reply.

Kylian grins and kisses you again. "Let me call for a reservation," he says, pulling away from you and standing up. You watch as he walks over to the counter and pulls out his phone.

You sit on the couch and wait for him to make the call. You can't help but smile as you listen to him talk. He's so adorable when he's concentrating on something. You lean forward and rest your head on your hands, watching him.

He hangs up a minute later and turns to smile at you. "I got a reservation at a nice restaurant for 8," he says, walking over to you and pulling you to your feet. "So let's get ready," he adds, leading you towards the bedroom.

You smile and follow him, already excited for tonight. You know it will be amazing. Everything is always amazing with Kylian. He always makes sure of it. And he always will. He loves you too much not to. He'll always do anything to make you happy. And you'll do the same for him. Anything to make him happy.

And that's how it should be. That's what love is. It's happiness and smiles and laughter. It's Kylian's arms around you and his lips on yours. It's everything good and pure in the world.

It's all that matters.

It's all you'll ever need.

Kylian.

Kylian.

Kylian.

Forever.

-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🌻

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

I live to serve 😉

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