Kylian Mbappe - Tumblr Posts

Roses & Kisses

Plot: (requested) In which Reader gets an unexpected gift from her Ex-Boyfriend and Kylian gets jealous.

Genre: Smut, Dom! Kylian

A/N: You’ve been waiting for this

Taglist: @okayymochi @kevjrr @darlingmbappe @fictional-l0v3r @neymarloverxxx @jkkyks @xanjoy @mounthings @mywhimsyjournal @mitruscity @anaofc @ihazels @sangriaswined @karotland @venusesworld @brideofmbappe @luz45789 @suzysface @edgyficuselastica @giannislovesney @sweeterthanacandy @kyliansmiste @olimpiiaa @kylianspsg

Graduation day.

This day is one of the best moments in your life. It is one of those moments that you will never forget.

Something that you have been waiting for all your life. It is the day you were going to see your parents happy and proud of you. The day your life would change for good.

It is an eventful day.

Starting with an hour of boring speeches (broken up only by a few daring clowns that bring inflatable balls to bat around - which the crowd and students loved, but teachers hated).

Followed by 10 minutes of worry as you wait for your name to be called while shuffling up toward a stage.

Then a few quick seconds of relief when your name actually is called. A few hand shakes as they give you a piece of rolled up paper.

Then, intense happiness as you launch your cap skyward.

You search for your family real quick. They congratulate you. Behind the crowd you glance at your boyfriend’s car.

You know it is a risk for him to show up in a crowded place, so you appreciate the ‘under cover’ appearance.

You say goodbye to your friends and family and get into his car before someone notices.

It was different with him.

From the laughs, to the kisses, to the sweet silent exchanges — being with him nurtured every part of you.

Kylian insisted you two go to the student residence instead of his home. You wondered why that would be, but he said he’d explain later on.

When you reach your room you’re surprised. You’re still in disbelief that it’s all done, as you stare at the little rolled up piece of paper you received a few hours ago.

Kylian smiles when you close the door, removing his sunglasses and cap. They didn’t really do a good job at hiding his identity, but then again it was nearly summer and most of the students didn’t really dwell around campus.

“So...” He tucks his hands in his pockets as he steps closer to you. “My smart girl has graduated at last.”

You nod, smiling.

“Your smart girl is also hungry and is wondering if you’ll take her out for dinner.” You hug his neck and he grins before pecking your sweet lips.

You were willing to go for another kiss, but there’s a knock on the door. You furrow your brows and he gives you a questioning look.

“I thought your roommate was visiting her parents abroad?”

“She is..” You answer.

You head to the door and look through the peep hole.

“Oh, that’s nice!” You cheer, smiling at him.

“Qui est-ce? (Who is it?)”

You open the door, and the mailman greets you.

“Mademoiselle Y/N?”

“That’s me.”

You take the large bouquet, thank the man and then close the door. You smell the roses and your lips curve into a very flattering grin.

“I swear to God, Kylian. Sometimes you’re very cheesy, but I love the roses. Merci bébé.”

His eyebrows are tied in a knot. But he doesn’t refuse your grateful kiss.

Still confused, he turns around to see your figure disappear to get a vase for the bouquet.

“You could’ve just given them to me in the car..” You mention.

“Uh... Y/N?”

“Is this why you insisted on coming here?”

“Y/N...” He calls again.

You glance at him and when you see his confusing look, your smile disappears.

“The roses are not from me.”

“What?”

“I didn’t get you those roses, Y/N.”

You stare at him blankly for a moment, and then you look at the bouquet you are holding. You notice the note that came with it.

Oh.

You don’t really sweat when you’re nervous, but it shows on your face and from your body language. How you suddenly feel your mouth get dry, and the way you scratch over your brow or suck your lower lip inward.

So, when your boyfriend noticed he got easily intrigued to ask: “Who are the roses from?”

You lick your lips and look out the window. “They’re from Alain.”

“Who?”

“My Ex-Boyfriend.” You say, putting the bouquet on the table. Then you make your way towards the sink to get some water.

Kylian’s eyes sparked — practically sending threats, but you didn’t dare to look. “Your Ex-Boyfriend.”

“Yes.” You didn’t need to lie, and Kylian may have figured out who Alain was with the snap of a finger anyway.

He checks the bouquet and you freeze in place.

“Why is your Ex-boyfriend sending you roses and love notes?” His smooth tone didn’t change, but it had an undertone of unpleasantness.

“It’s not a love note.”

Kylian gives you a ‘are you kidding me?’ look, poking the inner side of his cheek with his tongue, before he grabs the note to read it aloud:

“Chère Y/N, Ça me manque de te parler. Je ne suis pas bien sans toi. Je regrette profondément ce que j'ai fait. Alain ” (Dear Y/N, I miss talking to you. I sincerely regret what I did. I’m no good without you. Alain)

“C’est quoi ce bordel?!” (WTF is that?) He glares.

“He probably thought of me cause of the graduation. We had always dreamed of graduating together.” You explain.

You clear your throat.

Well, if you already started telling the truth, you might as well tell the whole truth.

“He texted me a few months ago and suggested we’d meet up. I declined. He never texted afterwards. The end.”

Kylian’s eyes were near-black now. He grins at first.

Teeth are showing, and then he laughs but his voice rings hollow.

It was a sardonic laugh — positively terrifying and unsettling.

“Wow. That’s nice information you hid from your boyfriend. Good job.”

You understand why he is upset, but you also don’t want this to turn into something bigger than it was.

“I’m sorry. I thought it would be best to handle this on my own. You were travelling and I didn’t want to worry you.” You justify your actions but he doesn’t accept it.

His hands are on his waist, and he laughs that unsettling laugh again; the one that you hear when he’s reached the limit of anger.

“A fucker is sending you roses, and you want me to simply sit back and watch?”

Frustration overrides your guilt: “Well, I can’t really control what others do or say. I told him I wasn’t interested. What do you want me to do? Send the bouquet back and tell him to fuck off?”

“Now that’s a good idea.” He voices out.

“That’s a ridiculous idea, Kylian. I’d rather ghost him. He’ll get the point.”

“Obviously he didn’t seem to get the point, cause he sent you roses.” He hints.

“Could we please forget about the roses and move on?!” You object.

“Why are you so okay with this?!” He shouts.

“I'm not!” You scream in protest.

He looks to the side and chews on his lower lip. If anger could be a person right now, it would be Kylian.

“Jealousy is not going to get us anywhere.” You say in almost a whisper.

“Jealous?” He asks. “Jealous?!”

There it is again. The snickering.

“You think I’m jealous?” He raises his voice. He never looked that annoyed by you before.

“I don’t know. You tell me.” You shrug and cross your arms in front of your chest.

He laughs and shakes his head. He was intending to walk away but then he heard you talk again.

“Yeah, you’re jealous.” You hum, intending to walk away to end the discussion with a sleek smile on your lips. And he’s overly irritated.

He turns around and looks at you: “No, I’m not...”

“Yeah, you are.” You say.

He walks towards you. His footsteps are loud. Like someone who has not learnt to walk quietly and instead relies on the verges to muffle his steps.

“I am. Not. Jealous.” He says as he keeps on moving closer to you till your faces were a few inches apart. “Jealousy is for men who have nothing. I’m protective over what’s mine.”

“Is that so?” You raise a brow.

His eyes hold all the answers. His breathing is unsteady because his soul and spirit were thus.

“So you’re not threatened by his gesture?” You ask.

“No, I’m not threatened at all, because I know that by the end of the day it is my bed you’ll be sleeping on and it is my name you’ll be screaming over and over again.”

Your body shivers to your core. You take a good look at him; the darkness in his eyes — you can’t say if he’s calmer or on the verge of an outrageous reaction.

“I want to make a few things clear.”

Kylian’s breath tingled the thin skin of your lips with each word.

“He texts you, he dies. He sends you roses, he dies. He looks at you, he dies. Hide the truth from me..” His grasp tightens on your waist as his voice drops. “And I will fucking die.”

Something pierces through your heart and shifts your parts. “I—...”

“Promise me you’ll tell me if he texts or calls you.” The intensity of his words steals the remaining breath from your lungs. “Give me your word, Y/N.”

“I promise.” You vow. “ As long as you tell me if anyone flirts with you as well, otherwise we’ll have a very serious problem.”

His mouth falls open and he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip in a hopeless attempt to control his irritation.

“Deal.” He simply says.

His acceptance of this agreement is abnormal but sufficient to wash away the guilt you’ve been suffocating on for the past few days.

It’s enough to fill your muscles with a certain need. A need so strong and demanding, it whispers beneath your thick skin.

Kylian leans forward and whispers in dark words against the shell of your ear, “How about I fuck him out of your memory. You’ll be so full of me you won’t even remember his name.”

Your chest heaves up and down. Your breast brush up against the lapels of his jacket.

You admit to yourself that you want him; his wit and intelligence, his jealousy and protective demeanor, his unbound love. But mostly his anger and possessiveness.

Your mind and pulse have gone haywire. You don’t say a word. You don’t have to; because your body language was telling enough.

His throat flexes.

A breath passes, and then— you collide.

Hands. Lips. Teeth.

His mouth smashes against yours, your fingers press on the flesh of his neck, and urgency ignites between you until your limbs are heavy and frail with lust.

The only thing there is between you is the frantic, unhinged need for you to be as close to him as possible.

Your back slams against the mirror closet. You whimper, more at the thick, hard press of Kylian’s length against your thigh than the impact. Pain is non existent. Your blood is liquid fire, burning away any sensations but lust, need and pleasure.

His hand grips the back of your neck and he kisses your jaw, his teeth grazing the skin before he breaks away and says, “Tell me you want me.”

“I want you.” You are breathless already and desperate.

Then his body molds against yours. He brackets you with his arms, and a groan rises in your throat when he draws your bottom lip between his teeth and pulls.

His hands slide down the length of your body, caressing your inner thighs, waking each nerve ending along their path before he reaches for your pants.

Your breath hitches.

“I’ll have you on your knees.” He promises as he tightens his grip around your waist, “You’re mine, Y/N. Start acting like it.”

And then he sinks his fingers into your hair, his thumb digging into your cheek, and he claims your lips.

He kisses you with unbounded hunger. He kisses you like he has never kissed anybody before. Before you, any physical closeness with the opposite sex was only to satisfy his need.

With you, you are the need. Mostly, it was about loving, passion and tenderness. Today it’s different — It’s fucking, owning, and claiming. A statement.

It’s about you and your bratty behavior. About how you give in to him when he kisses you.

He probes, you fall.

He pulls on your lips, you whimper.

He ravages your tongue, and you’re all feeble against him, your hand trembling on his chest, and your body becoming one with his.

His mouth devours yours for all the fucked up things you said.

The minute he wrenches his lips from yours, you make a sound, a cry, a disappointment, or something in between.

Your skin has turned hotter, and you’re looking at him as if you can’t understand him. But you want to.

He turns you around so your back is against his chest.

In your roughly 150 square feet room you are now facing your mirror closet. And you can’t help but feel turned on by the way he is grabbing and kissing your neck like he’s satisfying his need and silencing his hunger.

It was erotic; watching his reflection as his other hand slips inside your pants, your panties, homing in straight on your sweet spot. Your mouth falls open on a gasp as he buries his digits knuckle deep inside you.

“So fucking wet for me already?” He growls in your ear, his hips pushing strongly against your ass.

Your walls quiver each time his fingers slip in and out. His thumb rubs over your clit.

You hear muffled voices coming from the hallway and your stomach flips. You’re worried but Kylian doesn’t flinch.

“Kylian...” You warn.

“Let them hear.” He spits, his desire, his possessiveness seeping from his voice into your body. Your heartbeats beat wherever you felt him. His scent, his warmth, his touch surrounding you, imprisoning you, owning you in a way that made your blood so hot you feel like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode.

His hand moves against you, inside you, as he moves behind you. It coiled the heat tighter and tighter into your belly, your spine tingling, aching, and beating with electric flashes of pleasure as you bite your lip to keep your pants contained.

Before you change your mind or stop yourself, you slip a hand behind you, cupping him through the fabric of his pants. You squeeze him hard as he swears into your ear, his fingers speeding up inside you.

“Someone’s hard for me.” You tease and he breathes a short laugh and as a response he gives your clit one rub, then another one right before he squeezes it hard. Suppressing your moans like before, he pushes you over the edge and removes his fingers.

Your gaze is locked with his as he watches your reflection through the mirror, his eyes sharp on you, before he cups your breast with his hand and licks your neck up to your jawline.

Your breasts get heavier, nipples hardening as heat pools down in your stomach, your breaths hasty.

Your eyes wander over that hard, male chest you’d felt squeeze against you, the chest you’d seen bare just a day ago. The tracksuit covering the hard muscles as the open collar uncovered a strip of delicious male flesh that made you want to lick it, from the line of his pecs to the vein running at the side of his corded neck, right up to that chin, and that mouth.

God, you’d let yourself see him, your eyes floating lower and lower to below his waist.

And your breath hitches.

The front of his pants bulged out, unashamed and proud, tenting the fabric.

His hand finds your jaw, turning your face to the side so he can pull you into a devastating kiss. Your lips part, and in an instant he licks into your mouth, his tongue stroking yours, your core pulsing.

The kiss is slow and sensuous, your mouths meeting again and again as you reach your hand back to grab his neck.

He groans on your skin, and the kiss turns into something out of control in less than a heartbeat, turning wild and needy, tasting of that sweet madness that exists between you.

He looks you straight in the eyes. His fingers fiddle with the buttons of your high waist pants.

“Let’s see. How hard. You’ll come.” He punctuates each word with a flick of his thumb, popping button by button free. Need surges your body, flushes your skin with an overwhelming, addictive rush.

He pulls your pants down along with your panties.

His skin is so warm against yours, and he feels like a burning line of warmth against your body. His cock brushes your slit, and he teases you, guiding it against you but only letting it dip into you before he’s back to teasing.

You whine, hating how much you need him. “Fuck me,” You tell him. “Stop being an ass and fuck me.”

"I should make you say please.” He sneers against your ear, but when you open your mouth to answer he suddenly slams into you, causing you to choke on a gasp.

“But I like you desperate and demanding. You’re so needy. Do you want me to release you from your pain?”

He’s the only person in this world you can’t get enough of. The only one you always crave.

Love. Chemistry. Attraction. Desire. Everything between you keeps you burning; a single touch is all it takes to send you both up in flares. By the time he breaks the kiss, his breathing is ragged as he orders you to part your legs.

And without any warning m, he thrusts hard into you at an unhurried pace. The sound of his cock smeared with your juices and excitement echoes in the air.

“Moan for me.”

Thrust.

“Break for me.”

Thrust.

“Make me your one and only.”

Your thighs tremble and pleasure tingles your stomach. The pain gradually but undoubtedly turns into a thousand pleasurable sparkles.

You press your hands flat on the mirror, because you need the anchor. Kylian is dragging out your most animalistic side and stroking it, literally and metaphorically.

“Name,” He growls. Your eyes open slightly, finding his, clouded mind. “Say my name.”

Your heart stops. You swallow, aware of him beating inside you. His fingers flex on your throat, so big he encompasses it, the sense of danger and safety blending together in a exciting concoction.

“Kylian..” You whisper.

“Look me in the eye while you say it!”

“Kylian,” You sigh, encouraging him, moving your hips to his, observing him. It turns you on, seeing him like that, seeing yourself like that, both of you dressed but so, so naked.

He squeezes your clit, making your hips shake automatically.

“Louder,” He grinds out between clenched teeth.

“Kylian,” You moan louder, feeling all the edges on his cock, could feel those beating veins, all naked inside you. He begins to rub your clit harder, his hips picking up speed, your palm flat against the mirror as you steady yourself. His hand around your throat holding your head up so he can have better access to your neck. It wasn’t too tight but firm enough to make you feel completely caged, completely owned in that moment.

And you owned him right back, keeping him trapped inside you with each thrust. Slowly, the fire in your body concentrated on your burning core, your whole body shaking as you started getting light-headed from the overload of sensation.

He rolls his hips, nearly blacking you out with the sudden movement, touching your sweet spot.

“That’s my girl.” He praises.

He fucks you in every sense of the word.

The mirror on the closet begins to shake so much it rattles. The sound of the wood plowing a hold in the wall matched the rhythm of him plowing into you.

A lot of students could probably hear you, but right now? Fuck that.

Your eyes remain connected even on that shaking glass as he thrusts in and out of you, rolling his hips, alternating. Your walls squeeze him, weeping and clinging to him, the thrusts inside you spreading fire all over your body.

Sweat coats your skin, your shuddering voice turning into boisterous groans turning into little shouts you seem not to control anymore.

And then you feel his teeth on your neck. Hard.

You explode, screaming as your knees buckle. You drop your head low, your walls releasing like never before, your heartbeats through the roof, so loud you can feel them thundering all over in your body. You could feel your own wetness running down your thighs, your eyes look for his radiant brow ones as you watch your own cum dripping on the floor, committing everything to memory.

He suddenly pulls out, and you see him stroking his erection with his clenched hand, his face turning into agonizing pleasure as he explodes, his cum pooling on the floor.

You watch, fascinated, still reeling from your own pleasure, listening to that growl take off his chest as he jerks off for a few seconds, milking out each drop, breathing out.

“That was mean..” You say.

“Was it?” He asks while wiping himself clean with a tissue. “Judging by how hard you came, you seemed to like it.”

Your fingers button your pants and the tingle of arousal begins to spread.

Again.

It hasn’t even been five minutes.

This man is planning to kill you one day, and you wouldn’t object.

“Kylian,” You grit out. “I won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

He doesn’t seem to be concerned. “ You won’t need to. We’re flying.”

“What?”

“I booked us a flight to Marrakech.” He says so casually but it stops you at your track.

“You did what?”

“Happy graduation, ma lune.” He smiles.

You throw your hands around his neck and kiss-hug him.

“I need to pack my bag!” You say out loud and you head to grab your stuff from around your room.

Kylian sits on your bed. Checking his phone while you pack your huge bag. And when you head to the bathroom your phone beeps.

Usually, he doesn’t look. But when he sees a certain name pop up on the screen he feels his anger boil up again.

He takes a quick look at the bathroom door, hears the rattling of you going through your stuff. And when the air is clear he takes your phone in his hand and reads the message:

Alain.96: Hey ☺️ did you get my roses?

Entering the password. He jumps into his DM.

‘He’s foolish’ This is how he sees himself in your eyes. His love was foolish.

Maybe you’ll think that he was overreacting but he loves you very much. He loves you deeply.

To him it was a simple one on one thing. And because he’s a man, he knows exactly how other men think. And sending roses was not a thing to let pass by so easily.

One last look at the door and then he does what every man would do to get rid of a problem; you take matters into your own hand.

Jealousy; a tricky feeling.

It encompasses his feelings ranging from suspicion to rage to fear to humiliation. And strikes him till his bones start to shiver.

He blocks his account and puts the phone right where it was.

Flashing a sweet smile at you.

“Are you done?” His tone calm and relaxed.

You nod, and he gets up.

“Let’s get you something to eat then.”

Hfjdnekekmsskksekkekeke. IT’S BEEN A WHILE! I MISSED WRITING SO MUCH.

Kylian Mbappé imagine where Kylian suspects you are pregnant and you deny it but somehow he’s right fluff

Suspicions

Masterlist

A/N: Wrote this on the bus so it's probably shit but I hope you like it.

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — Kylian knows you better than anyone.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Kylian Mbappé x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 1.4k

Warnings! Fluff, slight angst, unexpected pregnancy,

Kylian knows you.

Perhaps even better than you know yourself, he would say.

From how you prefer hot chocolate over coffee to how you always choose the window seat on airplanes, even though you're terrified of heights.

He knows you.

Lately, though, something's changed.

It all started with a hunch, a whispered in his mind, and he's been racking his brain trying to figure out what's wrong. Even going so far as to call his mom and ask her for advice. And he thinks he's got it.

Call it intuition or whatever, but Kylian knows you, and he thinks, No, he knows you're pregnant.

You're not as energetic as you usually are, seeming more fatigued than usual, with dark circles under your eyes, often taking naps during the day and struggling to stay awake in the evenings. You've been eating a lot more than usual, often craving weird food combinations, something you usually hate when he does. You've also been having trouble concentrating and remembering things, which is unusual for you.

Not to mention that your mood seems to be fluctuating, going from being extremely happy to feeling down and irritable within a short span of time. Like your emotions were on a rollercoaster ride.

All your symptoms point to pregnancy, and the likelihood catches him off guard. After all, you both have been careful, using protection. Still, he can feel it.

You're in the kitchen when he decides to approach you.

Preparing a simple dinner. Spagetti Carbonara, his favorite. You look beautiful—the way the apron cinches around your waist, accentuating your curves—curves he's sure weren't there a few weeks ago. And you have a certain glow about you.

As you glide across the kitchen to grab ingredients, Kylian watches you closely, noticing the slight scrunch of your nose as you stir the sauce. As if the smell is suddenly overwhelming. You move more slowly than usual, and every now and then, you take a break to give your lower back a little rub.

Yeah, he's sure now.

He takes a deep breath and approaches you.

His steps are slow and calculated as he tries to find the right words to say, heart pounding in his chest as he tries to predict your reaction.

"Mon amour," he whispers softly in your ear, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"Hey. Did you get bored with your game?" You ask, temporarily pausing your chopping as you lean back against him, his warm skin sending shivers down your spine.

"Yes…So I have something to ask you."He asks softly, nuzzling your neck and breathing in your scent. Curiosity piqued, you turn around to face him, looking into his eyes expectantly. His gaze is soft, intense. It makes your heart race.

"What is it?"

He takes a deep breath. "I've been thinking…" He pauses, swallows and releases a shaky breath. You frown slightly, sensing that this conversation is about to take a serious turn.

"Go on, you can tell me anything," you encourage him gently, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. He hesitates for a moment before finally speaking, his voice barely above a whisper. "Are you pregnant?" he asks, his eyes searching yours for any hint of confirmation.

The question catches you off guard, and you stiffen for a moment, trying to process his words. "Um, no, I'm not pregnant," you respond, letting out a confused laugh. "Where did that come from?"

Kylian pauses, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I...I don't know," he stammers, shoulders slumping slightly as he mutters. "It's just that...I noticed you've been acting different lately. You're more tired than usual, and your appetite has changed. Not to mention..." He trails off, leaving the sentence unfinished as he searches for the right words. The last thing he wanted was to make you feel bad about your slight weight gain, knowing how much you've struggled with it in the past.

You roll your eyes, snorting at the simple notion he's hinting at. There's no way. "Kylian, I'm on the pill. There's no way."

He nods, still convinced he's not wrong. "Yeah, I know, but...remember that time you forgot? I just want to make sure."

You shake your head, dismissing him. "That was weeks ago, Kylian. I've had my period since then. I'm sure it's just stress or something." You reassure, turning back to resume stirring the sauce, hand gripping tight on the wooden spoon.

Usually, Kylian would drop the subject at this point, but he's sure about this. Deep in his gut, he knows. And he's never wrong about his instincts.

He takes a step closer, placing a hand on your shoulder, hating the way you tense up under his touch. "Baby, I love you. And I know you, and I know when somethings wrong, trust me." He can tell you're getting irritated by the way your eyebrows furrow and your jaw clenches. But he can't let it go. "Let's just take the test, yeah. Just to be sure."

You pause for a moment, feeling torn. But you trust him. Plus, his intuition has proven right in the past. Reluctantly, you nod, realizing that it wouldn't hurt to get checked out.

"Alright," you concede, giving him a small smile. "If it'll make you feel better."

Your hands shake as you sit on the toilet, nerves fluttering in your stomach. Kylian is standing next to you, gently rubbing your back for support, as you wait for the results.

"Hey, it's going to be okay," he murmurs, squeezing you gently. You steal a glance up at him, chocolate-brown eyes soft as he gazes down at you with concern.

"I'm scared," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. Kylian's grip tightens. "Hey, I got you. I'm not going anywhere." He reassures you, leaning down to press the gentlest kiss on your lips.

The minutes feel like hours as you wait for the result. And your hands are shaking as your knee bounces in nervousness. The timer beeps, and your world stops.

You hold your breath as you pick up the test and hand it to Kylian, the small lump in your throat now feeling like a boulder. Your heart pounds in your chest as you watch him flip it over with trembling hands.

He stares at the test, jaw dropping at whatever he's reading, before a wide smile spreads across his face. Then he's running toward you.

He scoops you up in his arms, spinning you around as he exclaims, "Je le savais!" before gently setting you down and dropping the test into your hands. You stare at it in disbelief, jaw dropping as your eyes well up. (I knew it!")

Two pink lines—two lines that changes everything.

You sob when it finally hits and it catches Kylian off guard. He wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly as tears stream down your face. He doesn't say anything. Just holds you. Knowing that you don't need words right now. Just him.

He strokes your hair soothingly, whispering soothingly into your ear, his warm breath against your skin. And you cling to him. Cling to him like he's your lifeline- because right now he is.

The only thing grounding you to earth as you process this newfound information. You stand there for what feels like hours, just holding each other before you finally manage to whisper, "We're going to be parents."

Kylian gently wipes away a stray tear, voice filled with awe as he murmurs, "Yeah, you happy." not knowing how you felt based off of your reaction. His heart did backflips as he awaited your response. There's nothing he wanted more than a family with you. You're it for him. But he knows he'll stand beside you no matter what you decide.

So he schools his features, in case you choose a different path, and waits for you to speak, ready to support you in whatever decision you make.

"Yes!" You blumber, barely getting your words out as you choke on your own tears. "Y-Yes." Hiccups and sobs escape from your trembling lips.

His body sags with relief at your words before he's pulling you close once again and laying a hundred kisses all over your face."Thank you, thank you!" Tears fall from his eyes now. And he's bending down to get on his knees to lay kisses on your belly. "I love you so much. Thank you."

He stays like that for a long time, his tears soaking your shirt as he showers your belly with love.

And you know everything will be alright.

-Bianca🌻

Family's Growing

Kylian Mbappe x Fem!Reader

Warnings: kylian has baby fever, dirty thoughts, baby talk, breeding, oral (f!receiving), fingering, penetrative sex (p in v), breeding/pregnancy kink goes burrrr, daddy used in a sexual context, begging, creampies, finger fucking and sucking lol, cum play.

Word Count: 1,615

Author's Note: okay I'm finally back on track with these - yes I know Tuesday is over but please look past that lol.

merry smutmas series

--

Kylian finds himself swooning over how good you are with his niece and nephew, the thought of having a family with you spins around his head. 

Christmas was a time for family and that seemed to be the only thing on your boyfriend's mind.

The two of you had gone over to his parents' place for Christmas dinner, all of his cousins were there as well as their kids. Kylian was not the favourite uncle for no reason, all of them knew they were getting good gifts in bountiful amounts too.

The tree in the living room that was once full with presents were now opened, the floor covered in wrapping paper. It was only two kids, his cousin's son and daughter, and Ethan if you counted him as well; and yet, it seemed like Kylian had bought the entirety of Paris for them.

Kylian watches as you lay on the floor with his niece and nephew, the three of you putting together a tower made of legos, whispering and giggling as you built the tower.

He smiles to himself as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. A part of him isn't sure what he did to be so lucky, to have a career as great as his and to have a girlfriend who's so loving and kind and supportive. You loved his family like your own, right now was a prime example.

Seeing you with kids always did something for him, you had a maternal nature about you, anyone who met you could see that.

The thought crossed his mind many times, how nice it would be to start a family with you. You two had spoken about it ages ago, when you began dating. You both decided that you'd revisit the idea when you were more stable in life and that you were now. Both you and Kylian were stable in careers, you two lived together, you had been together for a while and you had the means to raise a child.

He couldn't see where it would be a no.

As much as he wanted a kid with you, the idea of making a kid was much more appealing.

Clothes on the floor, hands all over each other, watching as you begged him to cu- "You okay?" Ethan asks his older brother, breaking his thought.

Kylian clears his throat. "Yeah," he nods, a smile on his face as you glance over your shoulder at him.

"They love her," Ethan nods towards you with the kids, "y/n's always been good with them."

"She was good with you too," Kylian teased his brother. You two had begun dating just before his World Cup win, the two of you barely 18 years old and Ethan was 12 - still a child in his brother's eyes and he always will be.

Ethan rolls his eyes at his brother's comment.

After some time, the kids started to get tired which was their parents' signal to head out. You and Kylian left not too shortly after that as well.

Your boyfriend finds you in the kitchen after he changes for bed, his arms wrapped around you from behind whilst your elbows propped on the counter as you waited for the kettle to boil.

"Something on your mind, baby?" You asked him, twirling the string attached to your tea bag.

"Just thinking."

"About?"

Kylian hums. "Kids."

His answer catches you off guard, you turn to face the man with a confused look on your face. "Kids?"

He shrugs, smiling. "Seeing you with the little ones today, I don't know - it got me thinking. It'd be nice to have our own, don't you think?" His hand rests on your hip, thumb disappearing under the hem of your shirt.

A glance at your boyfriend's hand, your eyebrows raised. "Do you really mean having kids or making kids?"

You can't help the laugh, kissing your boyfriend. The man wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him. Kylian picks you up, holding you tightly as he kisses you and carries you over to the couch.

Kylian puts you down, sitting on the couch for a moment as he looks at you. You take that as your sign to undress.

The silk shorts sliding down your smooth legs, pooling by your ankles before you step out of them, you pull off the tank top and that leaves you in the blue set he loves. You reach behind to unhook your bra but Kylian stops you, “leave it on.” 

He pulls you by your waist back to him, his hand slipping down to rest on your ass before giving it a smack. You’re quiet, looking down at your boyfriend on the couch. 

He puts you to lay on the couch, he’s sat between your legs with one on either side of him. You’ve propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him and Kylian drags his fingers up your thigh, moving to your clothed pussy. 

“I like this,” he tells you, fingers rubbing over the blue lace. 

You smile, “I know.” 

He pulls the panties to the side, his eyes fixed on your pussy. He gives you no warning, pushing his fingers into you. The sound leaving your mouth was like heaven on earth to him. 

Kylian's fingers curl upwards, your back arching at the feeling. 

“Keeks, please.” your hand reaches down to wrap on his wrist but he swats your hand away, managing to pull both to rest on your stomach and his free hand over your hands, pinning them to your stomach. 

You try to wiggle your hands away from him, trying to grab on something. “Behave.” He tells you, adding another finger. 

Your face twists, pleasure all across it and our hands stop wiggling, he smiles, satisfied. 

Kylian can feel it; he knows you’re close, you’re squeezing on his fingers, your thighs trying to close, trying to squirm away from the pleasure. 

He can feel your eyes on him, he reaches for the blue lace you’re wrapped up in and tugs it down your legs, letting it fall to the floor with the rest of your clothes. He shifts to lay on his stomach between your legs, leaving a trail of kisses as he works his way up to your cunt. 

Your eyes meet his, he knows you’re looking. He wants you to look at him. 

Your hips buck when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his hair. 

Kylian knew you like the back of his hand, gripping your thighs to keep them in place as his tongue lapped your clit. Your hips buck, your way of saying you want more, he gives in. 

"Please," you whimpered.

"What, mon ange ? Tell me."

You look at the man between your legs. "Fuck me."

There was no hidden meaning behind it; no scolding, no need to hurry him up - you wanted him and that was it. 

“Gonna let me fill you up princess? Hm?” He asks, shifting to line himself up with your cunt. You nodded eagerly, your leg hitching on his hip.

At this point, you can’t do much except lay there and take it; not that you don’t want to because you do, you really do. 

The tip of his cock brushing over your clit before moving to push into you. Your back arches, hips jutting forward to meet his.

Hard and rough, not enough to hurt you but enough to tell you that he's in charge.

Kylian wanted to hear you.

His hand now on your chin. “C’mon amour, let me hear all those pretty sounds you make.” He says, the angle you were at puts him deeper than before.

The slightest movements and you can feel it in your stomach. It’s like he can hear your thoughts because his hand moves from your chin to your stomach. His big hand spread over your stomach, “you’d look so pretty with a baby in you, hm?”

Kylian lets you fall back onto the couch, both of his hands on your hips. “Maybe I should fuck one into you.”

His name falls from your lips like a prayer, he could listen to you say it over and over again. You were close enough that you could taste it.

“So good for me, you take it so well.” He whispers to you, kissing under your ear.

“Uh huh,” you breathe, leaning back against him, your legs felt like jello under you. Your head drops back onto the couch, begging him to let you cum.

He lets you drop back, back arched for him once again. He feels you cum around him, the wetness covering his cock. It’s not long after, followed by a few sloppy thrusts, that Kylian cums too.

The tip of his cock brushing between your folds, spreading his cum all over your pussy.

He pulls away, smiling at the whimper he gets from you. His fingers replacing his cock, covered in his cum when you roll over, he sticks his fingers in your mouth and he doesn’t have to tell you what to do.

“Good girl,” he hums, watching as your tongue laps over his fingers. Kylian pulls his fingers away, leaning down to kiss you. A mess of the two of you, not sure where one of you starts and the other ends.

You lay there for a while, Kylian on top of you, your leg tossed on his hip as his head rests on your sternum. Your fingers drag over his shoulders, the man humming quietly.

"We should do that again," he whispers.

You laughed, "keep it up and we'll end up with a baby by next Christmas."

Kylian nods, kissing you. "Let's try again then."

--

taglist: @nosugarallspice  @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16  @books-and-netflix-pls  @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade  @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @trentsfav @trentsmyfave @noturbabe22

kylian relationship headcanon?

can i come over ? ────── just another episode of tenderness.

♡ ────── pairing : kylian mbappé x reader ♡ ────── tags : reader's gender, ethnicity, nationality, and appearance is not specified. ♡ ────── wordcount : 667 ♡ ────── notes : posting this one as a good luck token for the france vs netherlands game!! ily kylian. i try to not just write the happy parts of the relationship but also the hurdles you two might face? i might do more of these since i've got some ideas still :^) (quick disclaimer: since these are headcanons of real people, i'd like to emphasize that if you do not agree with any of the things i write, please kindly click off the post). title is from cool dry place by katy kirby ♡ masterlist.

Kylian Mbappé. Every single person on the Earth knows his name. But you especially—how could you not? When he doesn’t have his eyes on a football game, or his legs on a football field, he has them on you.

Hand on your knee at every single group dinner, behind your neck at every hangout with friends; his skin is always in contact with yours at every single second.

Touchy does not even begin to describe him.

If it were up to him, he would drag you to the changing room and have you sit between his legs—but no, it is not up to him.

Well, mostly because he doesn’t want to be the one that brings the elephant into the room, but also it is so bad that other people are beginning to think of you as a nuisance.

“Mbappé can’t keep his hands off his partner,” a tabloid once wrote, and it only took a few quote retweets from some Parc des Princes employees, heavily agreeing, for it to go viral.

“Sorry,” you once said to a manager, then to a janitor, then to a teammate, Kylian trailing quietly behind you, arms around your waist.

And he gets sooo whiny if you push him away—what’s worse than losing a match? His dramatic ass would say that it’s having you steer away from his touches!

“Kylian,” you whine on the couch, pushing his face away as he tries to kiss you for the hundredth time that hour. “Please, I’m trying to watch a film here.”

“Mhm,” He pouts, arms around your back, hoping that you’d look at him. He looks at you, his chin on your chest before sighing. “You hate me right? Be honest.”

“Please,” you say again, eyes never leaving the television, “you can kiss me all you want the moment the movie ends.”

He tends to avoid. You’ve known him for so long, and you are at the point where you would almost forgive him for the amount of issues that have simmered too long in both of your discontent.

But you don’t do that. No. You see forever with this man, right? So you sit him down and talk.

You’ve got to admit that Kylian has gotten so, so much better in recent years.

He used to flee at every problem—it’s not that he has trouble expressing his emotions, it’s that he has trouble being vulnerable.

“You’re doing this again,” you roll your eyes, arms crossed over your chest. Kylian won’t look you in the eyes. “I’m sick of this.”

“Come on,” Kylian tries reaching a hand over the table to you—well, if he’s going to ignore you, you sure as hell are going to ignore him too. “Look at me, we don’t have to talk about this right now.”

“Right,” you huff out, letting out a sarcastic laugh, “so when are we going to talk about this.”

Kylian stays quiet.

Kylian likes luxurious things; and he likes you. The same thing, really, in his eyes. A priceless watch and your priceless kiss—this is the kind of luxury a man like him can only dream of.

He goes all the way for his show of love, of course! He customises everything he owns with your initials.

Once, he somehow left his passport in the airport, and what got people into talking was not his passport, but your initials embroidered on its leather cover.

The strap of his duffel bag is changed into a shade of your favourite colour, your initials and his sewn together under it—it does not stop there! A gold plated lapel pin with your name on it becomes a staple on every single suit he wears; socks with your initials when cuffed; matching bracelets he only takes off before practice and matches.

He makes sure the camera flashing on his face gets it: he’d pose in a certain angle, throw his scarf over his shoulders in a certain way.

Even when you’re not there, he still loves showing you off!

Raw Dog

Summary: Kylian Mbappe x reader, breeding kink SMUT!

Kylian was a sucker for raw dogging, he couldn’t even remember the last time he bought condoms. He loved the idea of coming inside you, risking the possibility of impregnating you. The thought of filling your cunt with his seed did unimaginable things to him. He didn’t mind if you actually ended up pregnant because in all honesty, that was his primary goal. It was the ultimate way of marking you as his, and only his. 

Ditching the condom was a mutual thing and you were fully aware of this kink. The both of you agreed on using other forms of safe sex, such as birth control. You didn’t mind this at all, you actually enjoyed and encouraged it, the both of you benefiting from the immense pleasure. You loved feeling every ridge of his cock as he rammed himself inside you and he loved the raw feeling of your pussy clenching tightly around his girth. 

He would be on top of you, missionary style. His thrusts were slow but rough, dragging out and slamming back in. You would be under him, holding onto his back, nails leaving crescent shapes on his shoulders. He held your hips against the bed, anchoring you down as his hips did all the work. Your eyes would be slammed shut, enhancing the feeling of his cock stretching you to your limit. He grunted with each thrust, your walls getting tighter and tighter. 

“I’m gonna cum deep inside you,” he whispered huskily in your ear. He slipped out of you, earning a whimper from you. He stood at the edge of the bed and dragged you towards him. You giggled as he placed your legs over his shoulders, giving him more access to your pulsating cunt. He didn’t even hesitate, his large cock ramming into you. You moaned loudly, your wet walls welcoming him instantly. You stared up at him, mouth agape as moans and whimpers spilled out. He watched your face intently, loving the way your cheeks were flushed and the way you whispered his name.

“So beautiful…full of my cock,” he muttered under his breath, barely audible. He looked down, watching his cock appear and disappear with each thrust. His dick twitched inside you, and you knew he was close. He placed his thumb on your clit, playing with the bundle of nerves. This sent you over the edge, legs quivering as the knot in your stomach unraveled. The warmth of your juices triggering his release, filling you with his cum. He grunted and stilled himself, making sure every ounce of his seed was buried deep inside you. He pulled out slowly, his cock completely limp. He kept your legs in the air, smirking as he watched his cum drip out of your cunt.

The Marriage Series | Part I (Chocolat)

Plot: (requested) Inspired by the song Dodo by tayc

Genre: Dom! Kylian, smut

Warnings: a bit...kinky

A/N: I apologize in advance cause this is a bit... Um.. how do I put this... 🌚 just see for yourself. Also I know I say this every time but going through the scenes with Jana really helps lmao so special thanks to my BBG 🩶

Taglist: @okayymochi @kevjrr @darlingmbappe @fictional-l0v3r @neymarloverxxx @jkkyks @xanjoy @mounthings @mywhimsyjournal @mitruscity @anaofc @ihazels @sangriaswined @karotland @venusesworld @brideofmbappe @luz45789 @suzysface @edgyficuselastica @giannislovesney

“GOD!”

Just the slight of your tired mind was enough to release the breath you didn't even know you were holding.

It was a compromise between passion and directed studying, and you needed to have a solid comprehension of that fall outside of your “passion drive.”

Usually, self control becomes more important to you. But your frustration was growing by every minute.

You gulp down some of your water, and place the galss on the table. Everything around you becomes more interesting when you have to study.

You've never really took a close look at that vase in front of you, but suddenly it was so interesting to you.

You turn the antique vase over and over, your eyes following the engravings, enchanted. Your mind spins back to centuries before, one day someone carved this with such love in their heart, how else could it be so beautiful?

You burry your head in the space between your crossed arms on the table.

Focus, girl. Focus.

Focus? jumping straight out of the window when you hear your husband giggling in the other room.

“Dieu, Ousmane! Tu vas nous faire perdre!” (You will make us lose!)

His giggle rolled about the room like a child's spinning top, vibrant and heart warming as it moved around you in its chaotic way. It came in fits and bursts - loud to soft to nothing at all and back to loud again.

You sigh deeply. He'll keep it down soon, he knows you're studying. But his giggle was a stone bouncing across a glossy lake.

“Kylian! Can you keep it down, amour?” You shout from the dining room, but he didn't hear you.

Of course. He had his headset on. You lick your lips in frustration, and move towards the living room.

The moment you stand by the door, he was squirming again, raising his shoulders to hide the thick neck he had. He then straightens his back, and sits with his legs wide apart - and it only complimented his masculinity even more.

Relaxed posture.

Smooth, gentle hands, yet gripping so hard on that controller.

Brawny, tanned thighs.

Your eyes fell right on his groin. His dangly bits quite tempting and alluring. Though it wasn't his intention to lead your thoughts into oblivion.

Focus.. Remember?

“Kyky?” You call, and only then he notices you're standing right there. You notice it on his eyebrows first, the way they twitch up when he's just noticed something, then in his dilated pupils - he moves the left headset speaker away from his ear.

“Mm?” He hums. “Are you done?”

“No. Can you please keep it down a notch? I'm trying to focus.” You ask, and he simply nods, putting the speaker back on his left ear.

“Bon sang, les gars! (Damn it, you guys) I was only gone for one minute?!” He scolds his mates and you grow even more irritated.

You cross your arms in front of your chest.

“You know what?” You complain, dropping your hands to slap your thighs in annoyance. “I'll take a break.”

You observe him being concentrated on the game with his mates. He relaxes back on the couch, man-spreading again, and you can't help but fantasize about the fact that you fit right there in the space between his legs.

Perhaps a little break is just what you need to get your concentration back on track.

But when he screams for his friends to shoot and then groans, fuck.

The nerve endings in your body - especially inside of your thighs produce a vigorous tingling.

You lean onto the door frame and watch him with needy eyes. Biting the frustration off your nail.

You feel a sense of need, the need to be filled and touched. To be fucked roughly and finally satisfied.

“Bébé...” You say with a sultry voice. “I said I'm taking a break.” You hint towards your desire for him, instantly squinting your eyes, the corner of your lips tilt upwards in a seductive smile.

Alas, he's a man behind a screen, in short: not focused.

He refuses to pause the game and just shows his notice with merely a thumbs up.

“I'm in the zone, babe.” He whispers and his eyes are once again glued to the screen.

How dispiriting!

You feel hunger for his touch - anywhere, everywhere. And you want to do whatever he wants because you need him to release you from that pain. 

You never knew you could be that impatient. But here it is, and you needed a solution for that; quickly.

It was a mixture of annoyance and frustration when you look at his surroundings. How unfocused he gets whenever he plays FIFA with his friends. It was starting to get on your nerves how discouraging his behavior was getting. You glance at the coffee table that was separating you from him and notice the unfinished dessert plate.

“You haven't even finished eating your chocolate mou-”

Spark.

That spark in the mind when it comes up with a wicked idea is the most satisfying to you.

You smirk.

Slow steps.

It’s both incredibly irritating and the most empowering thing. There’s an added dimension to every movement, every step, that just signals “I’ll let you eat me up, if you just tip me over the edge…”

You are about to let yourself off-leash, because if he weren't to notice your sexual desire, you might as well pull him into your orbit, totally focused on pleasing you.

You inspect the mousse. Its dark and rich, it reminds you of the taste of him.

“Well, if you don't want it, I might as well finish it for you..” You coax.

You dip your finger into the richness and swoop a bit of the mousse. And when you finally catch his attention, you take it in your mouth. The tender caress of your tongue and the tiny nibbles on the end of it is a very provocative teaser for what’s to come - If he'd only play it right.

His eyes stare, as if climbing imaginary stairs to some fantasy about you licking his finger instead. His excitement is increasing, and you watch the fireworks commence in his eyes.

“Mmmm..” You wail, and he panics, wide-eyed, pressing his index vertically on his lips as a gesture to shush you. You smile playfully.

Hm.

He has the microphone turned on.

Fun.

His tensed body eases into a more relaxed position when he sees you take the plate with you. He probably thought you would just give in to reality and continue studying with dessert as an emotional support, but you weren't backing out so easily.

To his surprise you climb onto his lap so you're straddling him in a kneeling position and hold on to his left shoulder as you lower yourself onto him.

He holds his breath as he turns off the mic.

“Fine, you want some cuddles?” He fusses and embraces your body with his arms, only to grab the controller and move his head a bit to the side to get a better look at the screen.

Excuse you, Mr.?

You grab his chin and forcefully turn his head to make him lock eyes with you. You had made your lust a consternation of shamless actions and in the bloodshot eyes you held with his, your eyes were speaking volumes of appetite.

If all your previous attempts didn't succeed in gaining his attention, this definitely will.

You dip your finger into the chocolate mousse again, and bring it to his mouth instead. He opens it, sucks your finger clean; A moment of bliss to the tongue as sweet as the moment a rose opens for the eyes.

It causes a tightening sensation in your chest, you kinda feel your breasts expanding. Your loins feel very sensitive, in a good way, and throb, as if it has a heartbeat of its own.

You wipe another bit of the sweetness from your finger on his bottom lip, and kiss him slowly and tenderly, a taste that deserves to be savored.

You feel his hands slide to your waist, and after that he tucks his fingers underneath your shirt and slips them up your back. Kylian pulls away from your mouth to look at you. His hand curves over your hip, and after that slides over your ass, squeezing it.

You lean toward him and keep your bodies close together as you take control of the speed of rolling your hips over him. You could feel his bulge and manoeuvred your butt cheeks until they were either side of it. He was pressed against the back of the couch. Fighting the urge, but you started rocking slightly, trying to make him hard.

“Fuck! Can we do this later, please?” He inquires through heavy breaths, and you shoot him a sophisticated, doubtful look.

You don't answer, instead you wrap your arms around his neck and slide your lips over his jaw.

You observe as chills break out over his arms. He moans, and after that rests his hands on your butt. You roll your hips on his hardness, wanting to feel him hard against you, and he meets your movement with a yielding groan, causing you to chuckle gingerly.

“Just... 30 minutes, baby.” He tilts his head to make more room for you to relish his neck with tongue-kisses. He moans, and the sound encourages you to get that out of him again.

“Kyks? Are you there?” You hear Achraf through the speakers. Kylian scoots you up, clearing his throat to hide the horseness of his voice, then turns his microphone back on.

“Ouais, je suis là. (I'm here.)” He lies while closely watching you execute your evil plan.

You place the plate on the coffee table. Settling your mouth over his ear, you cover up the mic with your hand. Your lips tilt up in a wry smile and you whisper: “Let's see if you can keep quiet..”

You're needy, but kind enough to let him keep his shorts on, you only yank them down a bit along with his stretchy boxers to release his hardness from the pressure of the hugging textile.

You take the remaining bits of the mousse and spread it over his swollen head. He takes his headset off, and wears it around his neck instead. Warning you with his eyes, biting hardly on his lower lip. You can already tell that his blood was rushing through his skin, raising the temperature.

One last look,

It was all you gave him before you kiss the tip of his cock, moving down to the underside with the tip of your tongue. You move up and down his shaft with a series of light, gentle kisses before licking the rest. You swirl your tongue around his tip. Coating it with a mixture of his flavor and the bitterness of cocoa.

“Oh, Bordel de merde. (Oh, for fuck’s sake)” He curses as he plops his head back to rest on the backrest.

Focus becomes... not difficult, exactly, but narrower and shallower and not easy to control.

“Are you alright, Kylian?” Ousmane asks on the other end of the call.

“Mhm..” He fights the urge to groan, but when you push him so deep and choke a bit, he releases the trapped air in his chest.

“Are you in pain or something?” Achraf worries.

He seems to suffocate in this minute and you'd gladly lament it. He might catch fire from this and joyfully turn to cinder. And you seem to enjoy it a little too much; being right here, your mouth doing magic as he sinks into this feeling, his heartbeats undefined from yours.

This. 

Until the end of time. This.

“I'm...” He sighs mid-sentence “, perfectly fine.”

Gathering your hair in his hand, he involuntarily thrusts into you, and you taste him, rub his legs, easing his body under your touch. The heat from your mouth and your breath make him throb with anticipation — practically begging you to slide it back in your mouth. He battles back a moan, torment and joy twining together as he pushes your head up and down in a more profound and harder way.

His grip around the controller loosened, and he was unsure of where to put his now free hand, so he rests it beside him.

“Kylian, you're not paying attention..” Achraf says.

“I am paying attention..” He confesses as he looks at you taking him well.

His legs shake strongly under your hands. You take a frequent break from his member, and move down to lick his balls. Gently massaging and sucking on your man's testicles.

You overpower him with an extraordinary pleasure that feels like nothing he has ever known. It's reckless. Uncontrolable, it's distinctive and wild.

He starts to breathe a little quicker. Everything feels tight and unbareable. You feel him getting incomprehensibly close, and because you're a masochistic she-devil you pull out before he can come.

He turns the mic off, clearly annoyed. “Tu fais quoi là, putain?! (Are you fucking kidding me?!)” He scoots up.

“Sorry..” You cover his private part by pulling his shorts back up, and move backwards with slow steps. “We ran out of chocolate mousse..” You wink, and his freakiness is on the loose.

Something between anger and desire knocks revenge and demonization in his soul. It awakens the most intense desires in him.

“Les gars,... (You guys..) I gotta go..” He gets up, and you swear to yourself that if you don't inhale the ecstasy of existence from his temper, then all this asceticism and restrictions were for nothing.

“No, I just have to take care of something.” He explains as you bite your lip playfully and take your shirt off. You toss it on his face while he throws his headsets somewhere on the couch and hurls after you.

“That's it, young lady. You're gonna get fucked now.” He threats, but you secretly took it as a well deserved treat.

You hurry towards the dining room and giggle, you want to run behind the table for a little more fun and chase, but you married one of the fastest football players in the world, so you didn't really stand a chance. You don't make it that far. He already has his tight grip around your wrist.

“You want to play?” His voice was a snarl. “Fine, we'll play.” He grasps the back of your neck, spins you around, and slamms his lips against yours. Outrage still brimmed inside him, and you push against his hard chest. You can't even tell when he took his sweatshirt off.

He pulls your head back, and you look into his eyes; A strong brown, a sort of visual poetry in the way it magicked tall oaks into your thoughts. And you knew right then you weren't getting slow and sweet.

He was planning to fuck you mercilessly.

“Don't fight me.” He breathes on your lips, and effortlessly pulls your pants down. “You won't win.”

What infuriated you the most is his complete ability to negate your will, that he could control every atom of you, all your upright corners bow down from the look of his eyes, submit to him.

He longs for your weakness, and you long for your immoral truth with him.

You didn't care; if your death were at his hands, what is life to begin with?

What is life if you don't take it from his lips?

He runs his hands over your skin. And you take note how they felt distinctive; slow and concious. You close your eyes when he pulls you against him and buries his face in your neck. Feeling his bare skin against yours, it took you a moment to speak.

“Kylian,....”

He brushes his lips along your neck from one shoulder to the other, unsnapping the clasp of your bra, then tears it totally off, and pushes your back down onto the table. The hard surface cools your back as his warm hands rekindle your soul. He goes for your full breasts, taking each one in his mouth and grinds his hips between your thighs until you were both past ready.

A calm groan escapes his throat when he squeezes his pelvis against yours, and you could feel how much he needed you through his shorts. You hold your breath, knowing the only thing keeping you from that final step was only two thin pieces of fabrics away.

He runs his hands up and down your breasts, making you squirm and float towards him. “How do you want to be fucked?” He purrs.

“I can take you against the table. You'll wrap your legs around my waist like the good girl you are, won't you, sweetheart?”

You bite down on your bottom lip. His messy words and his touch drive you insane.

“And then I'll pound inside you so hard, you'd rub your back against the table. Or I can take you on the floor on all fours until your knees bruise from how hard I'll push in and out of your tight pussy. Oh, the choices we have.”

His hand meanders down your stomach, to the highest tip of your thighs and coast over your folds. “Hmm. You're soaking wet.”

Your eyes close briefly.

You're not wet, you're burning. And his touch is like spilling gasoline on fire.

More.

You need more.

But he doesn't touch you were you mostly needed, instead he cups your breasts with his hands and plays with your nipples as he tastes your neck again.

Earlier, he was tenderly kissing down your throat, now he is sucking hard on the skin at the base of your neck.

“Kylian, baby. You're not gonna leave a mark on my neck. Are you?” You worry.

“That depends...” His sloppy kisses don't stop. “Do you taste less better than last time?” He smirks against your skin, then rips your panties off, the elastic burning your thighs from the friction.

In the years of your marriage he had learned to not touch his naked wife, but to admire her first. So, he walks backwards like a noble being, watches you with the eyes of a king, and all your existence is in question.

You were prepared for anything he had in mind. You prop your upper body up on your elbows to watch his next move.

“Now what?” You ask.

He pushes a chair away from the table and sets it down so he's sitting opposed of your clit.

“Now, while you're sitting there, I want you to look at me with your pretty eyes, and play with yourself.” He commands and everything in you is rushing to fulfill it.

He leans back on the chair, his legs part and he licks his lips in anticipation: “Go ahead, I'm waiting.”

You swallow hard, then part your folds with your fingers. Your head falls back with a delicate groan.

“Eyes on me.” He demands, and you lift your head back up to look at him.

He slips his shorts down over his hips, and after that off his legs. He closes his eyes, and his breathing is deep and heavy as he starts to stroke his long member.

You drill your fingers inside yourself as he pleases himself. You're attempting to hold onto something, the sound of you fingering yourself is louder than your pants. His palm strokes his length in a synchronized rythym.

“Faster.” He inquiries, and you know just by the depth of his look, with their intensity, with his persistence that he is enjoying this torture. All his words, all his muffled groans, penetrate you.

He grunts, “You like that, don't you.”

You can't stop, feeling your stomach twist as the pleasure keeps building up, “You're so fucking wet. Are you gonna squirt for me?”

You nod, because you can't stop what he needs you to do. You can only hold on, hearing your juices squelch around your fingers.

“I'm close. I'm so close.” You whine.

“Look at me.” He says. In your debilitated state, you roll your head down and with your legs parted, you can see everything he is doing to himself clearly.

Your pussy is stretching over your fingers, your swollen clit over it, and you are forced to see him play with himself. You speed it up enough until you feel your release almost hit you.

Your legs start to shake.

“Mmmm....” He groans. “Stop.”

The fuck?

“What?”

“Hands off.” He orders, and his body is hovering over yours again. He grazes your lips with his thumbs. “Tell me, Y/N. What do you need?”

“I need…I need to come.”

“You think you deserve to come?” He kisses the top of your breasts, taking little nibbs and enjoying the view of them squeezed hard against his chest.

There is arrogance and confidence in him, which makes you realise that he will certainly set out towards your destruction. You do not know how to expose your eagerness further, how to make him take you off with his madness.

He is in control now that you had declared your submission.

“Only if you want me to.”

The desire and hunger that seethed inside the profundity of his eyes frightens and turns you on.

“Ask me nicely,” he asks.

“Please, make me come.”

“Oh baby, I'm going to do more than make you come. I'm going to mark each sweet inch of your fucking body with my teeth, and when I'm done, you'll know who owns you.”

He kisses you hard, taking your neck in his hands. “Since you're so much into games, lil miss. We'll play a little...” He bites your lip shortly, but hard.

What now?

He takes your hand, and licks your juices off your fingers.

“I'll ask some questions about myself, and if you answer them correctly, you get to come.”

“Ky...?” You gulp.

“How old was I when I started playing for Monaco?” He asks, teasing your opening with his head.

You close your eyes and answer: “16..”

You open your eyes when he breathes a laugh against your mouth. “Good girl.”

You feel the burn of his cock as he thrusts into you.

“Fuck.” You mumble.

“What were my first trainers?”

“The...God, um... The Nike AirMax..” You pant. He leans in and places a sloppy kiss on your lips. This kiss makes you curve your back shakily when chills spread all over it.

He starts to move in and out of you. Your breathing gets so unsteady to the point where you feel like there's a knot to your chest.

His lips are now focusing on one spot in particular. Your mouth falls open whereas your hands slap on his firm shoulders.

He grins when he sees you under his mercy. He was mostly reluctant with you, but the time has come for him to disturb your comfort, to shift your pieces, to tease you, and to come to you with all his power, violence, and revolt.

“Last question, petal.” He indicates, the sweat beads already dripping down his forehead. “How many goals did I score at Monaco?”

Shit.

Your mouth goes dry and your eyes close shut. You know the answer. You know it, it's stored somewhere in your brain, but fuck! Where is it when you need it?

You look at him, your hand grasping his arm that is traveling up your back.

You don't want him to stop.

“Allez, bébé..” His movement turns slower.

“Uh...” You stutter. “18?”

“Wrong.” He declares, and pulls his cock out of you so harshly, you jolt at the sudden emptiness. “The answer is 16.”

“Kylian, please.” You beg with your eyes.

He stares into them, he has a poker face, but his eyes were twitching. Not a good thing to make him angry again.

“You want it?”

“I want it…”

Your chest trembles. Your sticky skin is hot, your core throbbing with the desire to be drenched in his cum.

He leans over you again. Whispers against your mouth: “I'll have you how I'll have you..” He says generously against your lips. “and I'll take you how I'll take you, and there's not. A single. Thing. You can do about it.”

He takes your mouth into his, then breaks the kiss.

“Turn around.”

You couldn't, cause he has already spun you around with force.

“Bend over the table.” He presses your chest flat on the cool wood.

“If you like chocolate that much, take it.” and he doesn't even warn you before he shoves his dick into you.

You gasp, slapping your palm flat on the table.

“I'm the one fucking you,” He growls, driving his cock even harder into you.

“I control when and how hard you come. And right now, I want you to take my cock like a good fucking girl and come all over it. Understood?”

Your lips part and you give into submission.

“Yes.” you pant.

With the pressure he was pounding into you, the table was squeaking. That beautiful antique vase dropping onto the table. The water glass nearing the edge with each hump. You close your eyes when you see it fall.

Cling!

Luckily it doesn't break, but the water reaches your toes and it cools them down.

“Tell me you like it, Y/N.” He had to know that you loved this. That this is not the last time he will do this.

That you were his.

You never planned to allow anybody take you like that ever since you met him.

You were already his. All along.

“Tell me, baby. Say it.”

“I...” You whimper as he moves his hips in a wild I-will-do-that-all-damn-night motion that had you breathing difficult.

You push your hips back, and he thrusts more harder into you. “Say it.”

Tour eyebrows knot together at the great sense of pain as chocked on your words. “I love it.” You breatge. “I love it with you. Fill me up with cum, baby…” Your eyes snap open.

Fuck, what did you just say??

Kylian's eyes widen. His lips part and a frantic fussing pant leaves them as his head drops back, and he moans, “Fuck, yes.”

You have no time to be alarmed by what you just said to him since your body is rubbing against the soft surface of the table.

“Kylian... Oh, Kylian.” Your breast heaves against the table.

Calloused fingertips skim the sensitive skin of your throat as his palm circles the base.

He rocks you many more times, one commanding hand on your hips, and the other presses you down by your neck so you won't be able to escape.

He does not rest until he pounces with all his might, and removes all your strength with the fangs of his lust. He has folded you into the deserted chambers of his mind. Has left his madness and disorder, retreating away from himself.

“Your body is my favorite thing.” He takes an earned breath.

“And seeing my hand around your throat like a necklace is my favorite piece of jewellery.”

His mouth opens. At this point, you have no idea how loud you were being. You might be screaming for all you know…

Your blood is surging and rushing up your ears.

Gulping, you look over your shoulder at his smooth, damp chest. He licks his lips and drops his head. Your eyes meet, and Kylian thrusts even harder to shove his dick into your slit.

His fingers tug onto your hair, holding your head whereas you lose youself under the sense of his bouncing cock.

His deep grunts and groans has your walls clench around him as your cries resound around the room,

Kylian's stomach tightens, his thrusts getting messy. A low moan escapes him, followed by a gravelly fuck, as he spills into you. He rests his cool chest on your back, and kisses it, breathing against it.

He pulls it out gradually with a shuddering breath, dragging the swollen head over your folds.

Your brain is a mixed mass of statics, the sexual cloudiness filling the room as his fingers untangle your hair and he chuckles in satisfaction. Catching for breath for as long as you can, until the climax wears down.

The feeling jerks your body wakeful, and your legs feel paralyzed.

“I don't know about you, but..” He whispers, and you push your body up, turning around. “That was one of the best fucks we've had.”

You attempt to walk, but hold onto him for more balance. He chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist, planting kisses on that soft spot behind your ear.

You smile, and duck down to take your panties.

“What are you doing?” He wonders.

“Getting dressed.” You imply.

He snortles. “Gimme that.” He snatches your underwear. “Here's what you're gonna do.” He drops your undies on the ground, and your eyes do it too. “You're gonna go to bed, and wait for me there.”

Your eyebrows tie in a knot. “To do... what exactly?”

His lips quiver into a sultry smile, his hands squuze your butt cheek. “to play another game, of course.”

His mouth presses on yours, and you stand still while he walks past you.

“Say, we do have some ice, right?”

“Mhm.” You confirm, and then your eyes go wide when you get his hint.

“Kylian!”

Well,

Wrong man to mess with.

Lesson learned.

A/N: THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE POSTED AN HOUR AGO, BUT TUMBLR DELETED MY PROGRESS!!! URGH.

HI i wanna ask u if u could do a fic where u have to shave ur private parts but u r pregnant and ur belly is way too big to see anything so u ask for a help from kylian even though u were so shy

Third Trimester Problems

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — Kylian helps you shave

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Husband!Kylian Mbappé x Wife!you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 2.3k

Warnings! FLUFF, sweet husband Kylina, NSFW! SMUT (18+), oral sex (f receiving), shower sex?, reader is feral, you're hornyyy

Third trimester.

The worst part of your pregnancy so far.

You are so big and bloated, you can't see your own feet anymore. You can barely walk. Even simple things like bending down to tie your shoes—an act you once performed with ease—have become impossible.

You hate this.

Don't get you wrong. You love carrying your little angel inside of you. You really do. But your body has become a stranger to you. Swollen ankles, aching back, the constant pressure on your pelvis – it all feels like too much. Clothes don't fit right, shoes are a challenge, and even breathing feels like an effort.

Nights are the hardest. You toss and turn, trying to find a comfortable position, but nothing. You sleep too late and wake up too early. Kylian tries to help, buying you all the pillows in the world but nothing helps.

You just want your normal body back.

And today, yet another problem appears.

You look down at the razor in your hand and sigh. You've been meaning to shave for the past week, but your belly is way too big to see anything. It's been weeks since you last shaved your vagina and now the hair has grown back so much you're afraid you'll get a razor burn.

But you need to shave. You hate your pubic hair on yourself and can't stand it if it gets too long.

You know you need help. You know it. But the thought of Kylian seeing you in such a vulnerable state, exposed and struggling, is almost as uncomfortable as the itchiness from the hair itself.

It shouldn't be this hard. After all, he's seen you naked before. Seen you in the most vulnerable positions. You've had sex for crying out loud. He's literally been inside you. He's the father of your child, for Christ's sake!

But there's something different about this.

It's humiliating.

You feel so exposed, so vulnerable. You are literally asking your husband to help you with your personal hygiene, an area of your body only he should ever see. It's almost too intimate. Almost as if he was helping you pee or something.

You bite your lip, considering your options.

You could try to shave on your own. It's possible, you could do that. But the thought of accidentally cutting yourself is scary enough to make you decide against it.

So, there's no other option really. You'll just have to ask Kylian for help.

You swallow the lump in your throat and slowly walk back to the bedroom where Kylian is lounging on the bed, his phone in hand, absorbed in whatever he's doing on it. He looks up as you enter, his brow furrowing in confusion at you wrapped in a towel. Not that he wasn't enjoying the view.

"Hey," he says, sitting up on the bed. "Are you okay?" He notices your face is red and sweaty, and the razor in your hand. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

You hesitate, your cheeks flushing as you consider how to word this.

"Umm… I was trying to shave…" You say, gesturing towards the razor in your hand.

Kylian looks confused.

"…and?" He encourages when you fail to finish your sentence.

You take a deep breath.

"I can't see anything because of my belly so I need your help…"

Kylian stares at you for a second, his eyebrows shooting up in shock.

"Oh."

You feel your cheeks heat up even more as you see realization dawn on him. He looks so shocked and confused and you feel so embarrassed.

"I-I mean if you don't want to help, I understand… It's really embarrassing. I don't expect you to… I just… I couldn't think of anyone else…" You start rambling, your words getting faster and more jumbled the more you speak.

Kylian blinks.

"Wait, wait, wait. I didn't say that at all," he says, frowning. "I'll help, of course. I just wasn't expecting that."

He smiles sheepishly as he takes in your panicked expression.

"Oh, baby… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel so bad." He walks over to you, gently cupping your cheeks in his hands and kissing your forehead. His hands drift down to your belly gently caressing. "I'll do it. Of course, I will."

He looks up at you.

"What do you need me to do?"

You exhale in relief.

"Thank you," you breathe leaning your body on him a little, feet aching from your earlier efforts.

"It's not a problem. What do you need me to do?" He asks again.

"I-I think we should go into the bathroom…" You gesture to the bathroom. "I need to sit down… And you'll have to use the razor…"

You swallow, your throat suddenly dry.

"And you'll have to… Look at me…"

Kylian blinks, his mouth curling up in amusement. "Bébé, you do realize I've seen your pussy before right? I did put a baby in there after all."

You nod, blushing.

"I know… But… This feels different… I-I just can't explain it."

Kylian chuckles, shaking his head. You're so cute when you're shy. His beautiful wife. He kisses your forehead gently. "Come on then."

You lead the way into the bathroom, Kylian following you. He closes the door behind him, locking it out of habit. Still a little traumatized from Ethan walking in on you guys last time he stayed over.

You walk over to the shower, and sit down on the stool Kylian had placed there for you two weeks ago. The metal is cold against your ass, but you're grateful for the soothing feeling against your hot skin. You look up at Kylian.

"What now?"

Kylian shrugs.

"Well… You need to open your legs, right? I can't see anything like this." He gestures to the towel between your legs.

You nod, your face heating up as you part your legs for him, lifting one leg and placing it on the side of the bath. You can't help but feel a little self-conscious as you spread your legs for your husband. You know he's seen you naked before. Seen you in even more vulnerable positions. But this still feels weird.

Kylian smiles as he looks at you. He can't help but appreciate the view. Your thighs are smooth and creamy, soft and inviting. Your pussy is bare and wet, your juices dripping out and down your thigh, leaving a sticky trail on your leg. It's so pretty. He wants to lick it. He wants to eat you out.

He swallows, trying not to let his thoughts get away with him.

"So, you want me to shave it?" He asks, trying to distract himself.

You nod.

"Yes please."

Kylian takes a seat on his knees between your legs, looking at you.

"What do you want me to shave off?" He asks. "All of it?"

You nod your head.

"Yes, please." You whisper breathless. The way he's looking so intensely at your pussy is doing something to you. Another downside of your third trimester. The constant horniness.

He nods.

"Okay. I can do that."

He takes the razor out of your hand and leans forward, placing a kiss on the inside of your thigh. Your legs shake slightly, but you leave them open for him, giving him full access.

Kylian takes your other leg and lifts it up on the edge of the bath too. Now both your legs are spread, giving him the perfect view. He looks at you, taking in the sight of you spread before him.

You're so pretty.

Your legs spread, pussy exposed for him. You are so pretty. You are so soft and pretty and pink and all his. His pretty baby girl. His wife. God, he wants you.

Kylian leans forward, placing a soft kiss on your pussy lips, and you can't help the moan that escapes your lips. You feel so sensitive. It's all so intense.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire. He wants you so badly. Wants to eat you out and lick you and finger you. Wants to feel you come on his tongue. But he'll be good. You need this.

He licks your pussy lips gently and you gasp.

"K-Kylian," you gasp. "you're supposed to shave, not… Not…"

He smiles as he places one last soft kiss on your pussy lips. Using all his willpower to stop himself from devouring you on this bathroom floor.

"I know, I know… I just needed a little taste." He leans back slightly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Sorry," he says, his voice thick with desire. "I'm going to start now," he says, his voice low and soothing. "Let me know if anything feels uncomfortable."

With that, he gets to work. His fingers are tender as he applies the shaving cream, the coolness of it making you shiver. He’s focused, his brow furrowed slightly in concentration.

He works with a practiced ease, carefully maneuvering around the contours of your belly, the razor gliding smoothly over the skin. You close your eyes, trying to block out the awareness of his closeness.

The sound of the razor and the slight tug of the hair being shaved away are oddly arousing. You feel your pussy throb as he gets closer and closer to your clit.

You're so horny. So turned on by this whole situation.

You shouldn't be. But you're so exposed, so vulnerable. Your pussy spread out on display for him. You feel so embarrassed but so turned on at the same time.

When you stare at his face, you can see that he's concentrating on shaving you, but you can tell he's enjoying this too. The way his tongue is sticking out of his mouth slightly, the way his eyes are fixed on your pussy. He likes this.

And it makes you so horny. Why did you ever deny him this?

You want him to touch you. You want him to eat you out, to kiss you, to finger you. You want him to fuck you.

"Kylian," you say, your voice a whisper. "I'm so horny." You flush as the words leave your mouth. This is really not the time.

You feel his hand pause for a second before he continues shaving. "Let me finish first," he murmurs. "And then I'll take care of you."

You nod, your face flushing.

He finishes up quickly, cleaning up any last hairs. You feel your pussy clench in anticipation of what's to come. You can't wait.

When he’s finished, he gently washes away the excess cream making sure to be very thorough for what was coming next. He couldn't wait to taste you.

He tosses the used razor in the trash and washes his hands before he looks at you, taking in your flushed face and your spread legs. "Do you want me to eat you out?" He asks, his voice low and husky. "Or do you want me to fuck you?" He asks. "You have to decide."

You look up at him, swallowing.

"Eat me out," you whisper. "I want you to eat me out."

Kylian grins, leaning forward, the scent of the aftershave and your arousal exciting him.

"I'll make sure you come for me," he whispers his hot breath hitting your inner thigh. "gonna make you scream my name." He rasps, spreading your legs further apart. He places a kiss on your mound and you sigh as he makes his way down towards your pussy. He licks up your slit, making you moan.

"Mmm," he murmurs, his voice muffled against your pussy. "My horny girl."

You feel him flick his tongue against your clit and you gasp, your hips bucking upwards.

"Oh, fuck Kylian."

And with that, he dives forward disappearing behind your belly. You let out a gasp as you feel his lips wrap around your bundle of never. You can't see him the way he's moving is amazing. The pleasure shoots through you, your legs trembling.

He eats you out with vigor, like a man starved. Someone who hasn't eaten in weeks. Even though he had you this morning. His fingers dig into your thighs as he pulls you closer to him, eating you out greedily. His tongue laps at your folds before he flicks your clit with his tongue. You moan, your back arching and your head falling back.

This feels so good. Too good.

You're already close.

You moan his name, your thighs shaking.

"Kylian," you cry out. "Please!"

You feel his smile against your pussy as he continues licking, his tongue circling your clit. He can taste how close you are, your juices running down his chin. You're dripping wet for him. He wants to lap it all up.

He moans into your pussy, his tongue working overtime against your clit, and you feel your orgasm approach.

"Oh, fuck," you moan. "Oh, fuck, oh fuck."

And with that, your orgasm hits you. Like a freight train.

You cry out, your hips bucking upwards, your pussy throbbing against his lips. He laps up your juices as you cum for him, your orgasm hitting you like a wave. You moan, your body shuddering and your thighs quaking.

Kylian laps up your cum as he continues licking you, drawing out your orgasm, hand softly rubbing at your swollen belly. Your baby is kicking now, disturbed by the movements of your body. It makes his heart melt despite the eroticness of the situation. He still can't believe that you're pregnant with his child.

He continues until you can't take it anymore. Your legs shaking and your body shuddering.

He pulls back, his face glistening with your juices. You look down at him, your face flushed and your chest heaving. Kylian smiles, leaning over your belly carefully not to put his weight to place a soft kiss on your lips. You taste yourself on his mouth. He smiles.

"Better?" He asks, his voice husky. His lips swollen from eating you out.

You nod, smiling.

"Yeah. Better." You whisper.

Kylian nods, "Good," he says, standing up and pulling you into his arms carefully of your belly in the way. "Time to shower."

-Bianca🌻

sweetie pie

We don’t talk about this pic enough

Ky when Judy hits him up w Brummie accent

about to cry

Hi babes!

I’m leaving for two weeks (vacation) but when I come back I’ll be writing a new one shot.

I have A LOT of requests in my inbox 📥

What’s it gonna be?

I just picked the ones I actually wanted to write. (Apologies to the anon whose request wasn’t up there 🩷)

Cry Out My Name

TW: Kylian being a bitch with his teasing (not sure if that’s a tw, but yeah)

Genre: lots of sexual tension, smut.

Plot: You are Kylian Mbappé’s personal chef. You have had a thing for him for quiet some time now, but you maintain your professional cool and stick to the rules. But there was a specific night, that shifted something in both of your hearts. That type of shift where jealousy gets in your way, and he likes it.

A\N: Special thanks to @kylianmbappeh for helping me out with this one, enduring my annoyance whilst having a sore throat. Get well soon babe.

And a special thanks to @kevjrr for assisting me, reviewing my posters. ilysm

Keep reading

Kylian!bf headcanon?

our hearts are free ────── i'm a flower, you're my bee.

♡ ────── pairing : kylian mbappé x reader ♡ ────── tags : reader's gender, ethnicity, nationality, and appearance is not specified. ♡ ────── wordcount : 513 ♡ ────── notes : i have another ky headcanon post that you can read right here!!. this is pretty short :( sorry. title and desc is from father john misty's real love baby ♡ masterlist.

This man is expensive—literally, and well, figuratively. He lives beyond comfortable, and has everything on the tips of his fingertips, including: you!

He does not like seeing you work! He will be the first to admit it! Call it his ego or whatever, but he feels as though you don’t gotta do it, you know? He doesn’t mind seeing you work, but Kylian has got probably enough money to propel you into early retirement—and he would do so happily.

Sometimes he sees you working after a long day, eyes heavy and shoulders slump, and his gentle voice, coaxing you to strip bare of your profession, would always begin.

He genuinely stresses seeing you so stressed out! You’re his baby, and he has to take care of you! But he won’t really force it upon you—while he doesn’t see the rationale behind you having to work when you have him, he understands the mindset of having to stand alone.

And he understands you. (As long as you understand that he is there for you too ♡ )

Kylian wants to get married. There are footballers who prefer not marrying— hell, there are people who prefer not marrying. But him? Nah.

He simply does not believe in not locking it down; he lets you know early into the relationship about his end goal. The matter of kids or no-kids is something that can be discussed and negotiated, but he wants to be your husband.

Boyfriend is cute the first two years, and fiance even better for the next. But he wants to call you his, in every sense possible—literally, lovingly, and legally.

And another reason why he wants that ring on your finger… he’s possessive.

He’s territorial, he’s possessive, he gets jealous easily—what the fuck! Name it whatever the fuck you want! Kylian does not like seeing you with other people—with other men.

But he keeps his cool whenever jealousy begins to run through his veins. He doesn't make a scene, he does not flip a table outside down. What he does is pout. He trusts you enough to not actually get upset, but he still lets himself the luxury of being immature by wallowing in his self-made misery.

“I’ll marry you.”

There you two are again, on the bed. He’s propped on top of you, arms clinging around your waist. You are scrolling on your phone, barely paying him any attention as your hand pats the back of his head up and down.

Kylian presses his nose to your neck.

“That sounds like a threat, Kylian.”

He scoffs hearing that. “It will be if he keeps touching you.”

You can’t even find it in yourself to be upset at how silly he is being, chuckling softly.

“He wasn’t touching me, baby.” 

“He was,” he whines quietly, still hiding away in the crook of your neck. “Once I get that ring on your fingers, he’ll know.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you kiss the top of his head, before focusing back on your phone. “Make sure to get my size right, huh? We don’t want the ring not fitting.”

I totally agree

What type of fics do you prefer to read the most

I love me some angst 😮‍💨 I don‘t really love to read/write fluff

But I low-key search for angst and dramatic, forbidden love kinda fics. These hit the best

Can you write an angsty one with Kylian Mbappe.

A secret affair, a fling - Kylian Mbappé x Reader

Masterlist

Warnings: Cheating

summary: In which the reader is left alone on vacation in Brazil with her fiancés best friend Kylian. Based on Billie Eilishs „Billie Bossa Nova"

Love when it comes without a warnin’

‚Cause waitin‘ for it gets so borin’

The music was blaring through the club as you felt your body giving in. Swaying your hips, feeling his hands run up and down your body, stopping at your throat before he pulled you back. Teasing you as he placed kisses down your neck before whispering into your ear.

„Thanks for showing me this.“

You moved your body against his to the familiar sounds of the Brazilian Bossa Nova. Everyone around you on the dancefloor being taken over by the rhythm. Including the french boy that was currently grinding against you.

This felt wrong. No, this was wrong. But you were both too drunk and taken over by passion to think clearly.

It was unexpected, yet it seemed like you had secretly already hoped for it too happen.

Showing Kylian around Rio had been incredibly fun. You had taken him to all the good spots, where locals would hang out. Knowing the city like the back of your hand as you had grown up there.

A lot can change in twenty seconds

A lot can happen in the dark

It was a big city though. And you were both lonely. With your fiancè being in Europe, having left early because of some job. Cutting your vacation short and leaving Kylian and you behind in the big city.

„It’s gonna be fine. You should stay and enjoy Rio.“

If he saw you right now, all sweaty and grinding against his best friend in a dark night club, he probably wouldn’t have told you to stay. But he trusted you. He trusted Kylian.

Love when it makes you lose your bearings

Some information’s not for sharing

Kylian pressed you against the stone wall, making you giggle as you put your hand against his chest. The outside of the club way too busy to be doing this but both of you too drunk to care.

Kylian bit your bottom lip before pulling away and breaking the kiss. You stared at him, trying to catch your breath.

„What?“ you asked, tracing his eyebrows with your index finger.

He held up a polaroid camera, that he had brought with him everywhere, as you leaned against the wall and smiled. It only took a few seconds before the flash appeared and a picture came out the camera.

Kylian grabbed the small photo, shaking it a few times before putting it into his blazers pocket. As he did so, you noticed his expression change.

„I think I lost my wallet.“ he slurred, his french accent stronger as he also had way too much to drink „But I don’t really care right now.“

You giggled as he pressed his lips against yours again. Eagerly trying to push his tongue in before you allowed him entrance.

„Carlos?“ Kylian asked, his hand on your leg as he traced circles against your skin „Can you please bring us to a hotel a little out of the city?“

Kylians driver looked at him with furrowed eyebrows before nodding, understanding exactly what was going on. He had been driving Kylian and you around for the past week, knowing very well who you both were.

Carlos didn’t say anything though as it wasn’t his place to ask any questions. He started the engine of his black Mercedes before driving off through Rios busy streets.

You dimmed the light on your phone, as Kylian looked at you from the side. Clearly reading the text your boyfriend had sent you.

Meu amor: how was your day? Did Kyky enjoy the beach at Copacabana?

You felt guilt washing over you but before you could even think Kylian grabbed your phone and turned it off.

„He doesn’t need to know everything.“ the french boy then exclaimed, making you nod in agreement. Maybe some things were better left unsaid.

You better lock your phone

And look at me when you’re alone

The drive was taking longer then expected as there was always a lot of traffic in Rio. You stared out the tinted window of the car, watching all the different people just live their life. Making you wonder what each of them was like.

Kylian spent the whole drive staring at you as he whispered how pretty you were from time to time. You knew he was just very drunk.

You tried the best you could to contain yourself and not give into his charm, knowing that Carlos could not talk about anything he didn’t clearly see. If nothing happens, he has nothing to tell.

Although you were pretty sure Kylians managers already made him sign an NDA. They always did.

You bit your lip and held your breath when you felt Kylian slowly slip his finger under the hem your red dress. The dress that had made him go crazy all night as it hugged your curves perfectly and was way too short. All he wanted to do was rip it off.

Won’t take a lot to get you goin’

I’m sorry if it’s torture though

You closed your eyes as Kylians fingers ran up and down your thigh. His hand moving dangerously high. Just as Kylian tried to push your underwear aside, you grabbed his hand as you sent him a shocked look. His face only lit up by the flickering lights from outside.

You pressed your legs together, making it impossible for him to move his hand any further. Carlos clearing his throat in the front seat as you hoped he hadn't just seen that.

Kylian sent you a mischievous grin, satisfied with the effect he had on you.

„I like it when you lose control.“ the french boy smirked, before freeing his hand from your grasp and readjusting his black blazer.

Use different names at hotel check-ins

It’s hard to stop it once it starts

„One room for two, please.“ you watched Kylian lean against the hotel counter, all suited up as the nightclerk typed something into the computer.

The hotel was nice and quite luxurious. It was about half an hour from the city, so there were almost no people around at this time. As you watched Kylian through the glass door that separated the lobby and reception, you couldn't help but think about what it is that you were about to do. What you had already done.

„Jean Laurent.“ you heard Kylian lie to the nightclerk, as he looked back at you standing in the lobby with your arms crossed.

You felt uncomfortable and the more time that was passing you realized what a stupid idea this was.

„Let’s go.“ Kylian walked over to you, holding a hotelroom keycard in his hand.

The two of you walked through the hallways of the hotel. The lights were dimmed as you strutted over the red carpets. Tracing the wallpaper with your index finger. Kylian following close behind you, both of you not saying a word.

The elevator music filled the awkward silence as it took you all the way to the top. Kylian looking at his phone, avoiding your gaze while you just held on to your clutch.

You arrived at room 201, Kylian opening the door for you. You entered the pitch black room as the door was closed behind you. And only a few seconds later the room was lit up by a big chandelier, revealing what seemed to be a full blown suite.

„Wow…“ you said, looking around the massive room that looked more like a apartement. The big king sized bed being the center of attention.

The lights were also dimmed as you made your way over to the big windows, that led to a balcony. You left the room through the flowing curtains and a beautiful skyline of Rio revealed itself. Although it was quite far away the city looked absouluety stunning from here. All the lights flickering and the sight of your hometown making your heart warm.

You felt two hands wrap around your waist as Kylian hugged you from behind. Resting his head on your shoulders, feeling his chest move up and down.

„It’s nice, huh?“ he whispered, as you finally relaxed into his embrace. Feeling the warmth from his touch.

„It’s amazing.“ you smiled, putting your hand against his cheek „Thank you so much Kyky.“

You felt Kylian sigh, as he buried his face into the crook of your neck „I’m relieved you like it.“

You raised your eyebrows as you turned around, Kylians hands still on your waist only now with you facing him. „Relieved?

„Yeah…“ he took a deep breath, as you looked at his face that was being lit up by the moonlight „For a minute there… I thought you regretted us coming here.“

You put your hand onto his cheek before planting a soft kiss onto his lips. Kylian immediately giving in.

„I don’t regret it.“

I’m not sentimental.

But there’s somethin’ ‚bout the way you look tonight

Kylian pushed you onto the bed as he hovered above you, not disconnecting your lips for a single second. He eagerly took of his blazer before you helped him unbutton his white shirt. Reaching the last button you pulled away from the kiss.

Kylian now kneeling over you, his trained body revealing itself. You looked up at him as he licked his lips, not believing he was about to do this.

With a slow motion, Kylian started to unzip your red dress before sliding it off of you in a smooth motion. All you did was lay there and look up at him with a weak smile, now only wearing black lace underwear.

Just when your hand reached out for his belt Kylian grabbed it, making you look at him confused.

„Wait…“ he now said, before getting up and walking over to the nightstand. You watched him grab his polaroid camera, not daring to say a word as he pointed it at you. You looked up at him, knowing that this wasn’t a good idea. But something inside you made you let him take that picture.

Kylian threw the camera onto the bed, the photo still stuck in it. „Don’t worry. It’s just for me.“

Nobody saw me in the lobby

Nobody saw me in your arms

You walked out the hotel, already seeing the black bus parked there.It was still super early and you hadn’t rested all night.

The nightclerk watching you leave, not saying a word as he also understood what kinda situation this had been.

After you had slept with Kylian, you immediately realized what mistake you had made. You had layed awake with Kylians arms wrapped around you as you started out the big window. Tears rolling down you onto the pillow while you silently cried, feeling your naked bodies against one another as all you could think about was your fiancé.

After a while you couldn’t handle just laying there anymore. Your guilt was eating you up from inside. So you got up, collected your underwear and dress before silently getting dressed.

You made your way down the hallway, getting ready for the walk of shame. The power of your phone being just enough for you to call your hotel to send you a driver and pick you up.

The rest of the time you spent standing there, silently crying as you stared at the floral wallpaper.

The whole ride back all you could think about was how Kylian would feel when he’d wake up without you there. After all you had spent an amazing night together and he was gonna think it meant nothing to you.

It did in fact mean something to you. But you just couldn’t handle the feeling of guilt when you thought about your partner. You did know; you were in deep trouble now.

It might be more of an obsession

You really make a strong impression

When you arrived back at your hotel, you took a shower as you tried to clear your head. Your mind running wild as you thought about how Kylians lips felt against your skin and how his hand would run up and down your body.

It felt like his smell was still on you even after you had showered. You plugged in your phone before laying into your own bed again.It was already ten and you were about to get your first minutes of sleep since over 24 hours.

As you wandered off into dream land you could still hear his words and his whispers. Until you finally doze off.

„Serviço de quarto!“

You were torn from your sleep by a loud knock on the door. Groaning as you sat up, startled by the harsh awakening. The sun shining through your blinds, making you squint your eyes as you reached your hand out for your phone on the nightstand.

16:23

Great, you had literally slept the entire day. You pushed away the bedsheets with your feet. The room felt hot and humid as you had forgotten to turn on the air conditioning.

Kylian had left about a thousand messages and calls, asking where you where and if everything was okay.

What did he think? Of course, everything was not okay. You had cheated on the love of your life last night.

Another knock, followed by a guys voice appeared „Serviço de quarto!“

„I don’t need it!“ you tried to yell but your voice was way too weak. So you decided you just get up and send him away.

Rubbing your eyes, as you groaned making your way to the door. You were still half asleep when you opened it with one big swing.

„I said…“ you stopped in your tracks, seeing who was standing there as you felt like you were gonna have a heartattack „Oh my god!“

„Hello meu amor!“ Neymar smiled before wrapping his arms around you and connecting your lips.

See what you maybe forgot to mention was that Neymar was you fiancè. That’s why this whole thing was a little complicated.

Being Neymars girlfriend, you had gotten quite famous yourself. Not that you wanted any of that. No, you would gladly have back your privacy. A lot of people knew who you were and they knew who your partner was. So just the thought alone of anyone having seen you last night gave you anxiety.

„I missed you so much.“ Neymar mumbled, pulling away before wrapping his arms around your bare waist as you were only wearing a croptop and some shorts.

„I missed you too…“ you fake smiled, standing there awkwardly as you almost couldn’t look him in the eyes „What are you doing here though? I thought you weren’t gonna be back...“

„I know, I know…“ he sighed, pulling you closer as he looked you in the eyes „I actually cancelled some stuff so I could be back earlier. Plus I wouldn’t wanna miss your birthday right? “

„Right.“ you grinned, completely having forgot about your birthday being tomorrow and also feeling bad that Neymar had travelled all the was back from Europe just so he wouldn’t miss it.

"But meus Deus, why are you still asleep at this time? Did you and Kylian have a rough night?" he chuckled, as you ran your hand through your tangled hair.

„What?“ you asked with furrowed eyebrows, panic immedieately settling in.

„I mean Kyky told me you took him to a bar.“

„Oh…“ you said, not trying to sound relieved „Yes it was fun. Not as fun as it would have been with you though. You talked to him?“

„Yeah, yeah…“ Ney nodded, still holding you close to him as you both stood there in the doorway „He knew I was coming.“

The rest of the day only one thing circulated around your mind; He knew? He knew he was coming. He knew it. He had possibly risked Neymar catching the two of you if you hadn’t been smart enough to leave early. He had possibly risked ruining your realitionship.

You were mad. But of course you couldn’t show it as Ney was completely head over heels to be back again. He took you out for dinner and he spent the whole evening talking about the birthday party he had planned for you tomorrow. You at least tried to seem happy about it.

When Ney left, to go to the toilet for a second, you took the opportunity to let out your anger. Aggressively typing a message into your your phone, ignoring all his other texts.

What the hell Kylian? Why did you not tell me that Ney was coming?

The waiter refilled your glass of wine as you gave him a small thanks, waiting for Kylians response.But nothing came. In fact Kylian ignored you for the rest of the evening as you spent time with his best friend, pretending everything was completely normal.

When in fact nothing was normal.

You slept horribly, dreading your birthday and the party that Ney had planned for you. He on the other hand slept like a stone as he was a obviously little jet-lagged.

The whole night all you could think about was that less then 24 hours ago you were laying in Kylians arms. You remembered exactly how it felt, how he smelled and the way he would breath against your neck.

And the worst part was, that you missed it.

You missed him.

I’m not sentimental

But there’s somethin‘ ‚bout the way you look tonight

The party was already in full swings as you walked around greeting all the people. Your silver gown sparkling in the dark, Neymar attached to your hip the whole night, with his hand on your bare back.

This felt like a football event. You didn’t remember ever meeting half the people, most of them having some kind of connection to football. You had to admit you didn’t have many friends as you spent the past years travelling around the world with Neymar.

That’s exactly why you didn’t want any of this but Neymar of course insisted on throwing you a huge party.

Everything being completely over the top, with it being at Rios most expensive hotel. Chandeliers were hung all throughout the big hall, three different bars where you could get all sorts of drinks and food were set up, the most beautiful white rose wherever you looked and a big dancefloor with disco lights in the back.

You didn’t deserve this. And that’s what heavily layed behind your fake smile as you greeted manager after manager. All of them handing you gifts that where probably way too expensive.

„Oh Y/n… Look it’s Veratti.“ Neymar pointed toward his Paris teammate, who was sipping some champagne with his wife in the corner „Let’s go greet them.“

You did wonder why Neymar had invited basically all of his friends to what was supposed to be your birthday party. But then again, you felt bad enough already so you wouldn’t every say anything.

„Ehm… I’m just gonna get a little fresh air and then I’ll come after you.“ you smiled weakly, moving closer to your fiancé as you felt suffocated by the mass of people around you.

Neymar, dressed in an all black suit looked at you worriedly „Everything alright, meus amor?“

Guilt, that’s all you could feel when looking at his face. So you avoided eyecontact and just nodded, pressing your lips together „Yeah, everything is perfect. Thank you so much for all of this Ney.“

Neymar had obviously noticed something being different with his girlfriend. And now that you had called him Ney, he was convinced something was wrong. But he decided to let it go for the moment as he watched you, make your way through the crowd towards the balcony.

You felt tears, fill your eyes as you fought your way through the mass of people. Forcing a smile anytime any of them would greet you.

And just when you thought it couldn’t get worse; he stood there.

All suited up, holding a small gift in his hand as he stared right at you. For a moment it felt like everyone around you stopped and it was just the two of you. The memories of the past week flowing through your mind.

A tear rolled over your cheek as Kylian gave you a weak smile.

Standing just a few feet away from you as people started to push past you. Making you distance yourself from him until you couldn't even see him.

Makes me wanna make ‚em jealous

I’m the only one who does it how you like

You tried not to sob as you walked into the darkness. Only a few people on the balcony, all of them too distracted to notice a crying woman walk towards the railing.

You leaned yourself against it as you tried to breath normally, feeling like you were gonna run out of air any time now. Today was supposed to be one of the happiest days of your life. You were in the city you loved with the man you loved and he had thrown you a party that any girl would kill to have. But there was just one problem; You had fallen for another guy.

„I’m sorry…“ the voice apperead behind you as you turned around to look at Kylian „I shouldn’t have come.“

You pressed your lips together, trying to stop yourself from crying as you turned around to look at the beautiful view of the endless ocean. Lights reflecting on its surface, as a cold breeze blew over your face.

Kylian now made his way up to you, standing there also looking at the view.

„I…I just…“ you chocked, getting frustrated with yourself „I can’t look at him anymore. I mean…“

You looked at Kylian, who looked down in shame before meeting your eyes.

„I can’t look at him Kylian.“ you sobbed, now looking at the french boy „You know what that means?“

There was a moment of silence, both of you knowing the answer to your question very well. Both afraid to say it. Him knowing this was gonna break his best friends heart and you knowing it was gonna break yours. But you couldn't do this anymore, Neymar deserved better.

„It’s over?“ Kylian then asked, his voice quiet as he looked at you from the side.

„Yeah, it has to be.“ you nooded, wiping away your tears wit the back of your hand as you stared at all the lights „I mean look what he did for me… I don’t deserve any of this. I’m a horrible person... So it’s over. It has to be.“

„You’re not a horrible person.“ Kylian now spoke up, putting his hand onto yours as you flinched. Pulling it away and immediately seeing the hurt in his eyes „I think Ney also kinda did this for himself Y/n. I mean these are not your friends. You barely know most of them.“

„But he still….“

„No, Y/n!“ Kylian said, sounding almost angry as he turned his body towards you „For the past year your life has revolved only around him. You supported him in all of his decisions and were always by his side. You’re not a horrible person! You are just a girl who was left alone on what was supposed to be a vacation with her fiancé!“

"Why didn't you tell me?" you then asked, looking at his confused expression "Why didn't you tell me that he was coming? If you had just told me then none of this would have happened!"

"So what you think if I told you, you would have just left me alone at the hotel that night and gone back to the city?" Kylian asked, clearly offended by how little this seemed to have meant to you.

"Yes, that's what I would have done!" you yelled, looking at him coldly before hissing „I think you should go.“

„What?“ Kylian yelled, completely frustrated with your stubborness.

„I really think you should go now.“ you bit your lip, in order to stop yourself from crying.

Kylian looked at you, not believing any of this was actually happening. He had thought that if you cheated on Neymar it would have at least meant something. Because it had meant something to him.

„Alright. Fine.“ he hissed, reaching into his pocket as he pulled out the small gift he had held before. Kylian forcefully shoved it in your hand before looking at you one last time „Happy Birthday Y/n!“

With that he turned around and walked away, leaving a heartbroken you behind. Tonight you would not only lose your fiancé but you had also lost your friend.

It took you a few minutes to recollect yourself. And then, even though you didn’t want to your hands slowly untied the bow. You carefully opened the small box, the inside making your heart wrench.

It was all the polaroids Kylian had took of you during your trip together. At the beach, in the car, in the club on the night you had kissed for the first time, on the balcony at the hotel, laying on the bed in only your underwear and finally a picture of the two of you together that he had taken while you where asleep.

His arm wrapped around you as he kissed your cheek.

And on the back of it. It was written;

I’m not sentimental

But there’s something about the way you looked that night, that made me wanna take a picture that I knew we’d have to hide.

Happy Birthday Y/N. Love, Kyky.

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WOAHHHH 🤩 AMAZING 100/10❤️

A Masked Obsession

Plot: After helping your lover with moving out to another country, you find some stuff that comes to your interest. Unbeknownst to you, a certain mask comes to benefit.

Pairing: Kylian x Reader

Genre: Smut, Dom!Kylian

Warnings: kinda kinky, spitting (requested), hardcore

A/N: I hate how my brain gives me stupid ideas before I go to bed...

“What about that one?” You say, holding some grey joggers up for him to see.

“Nah, leave it here.” He shrugs and continues packing his bag.

The late afternoon light spills into the room as you stand in front of his closet, helping Kylian pack for his move to Madrid. His suitcase is open beside him, half-filled with neatly folded clothes and a few personal items. He’s focused, methodically folding a favorite jersey, the weight of the move hanging in the air between you like a quiet, unspoken goodbye.

You hand him a stack of shirts when your fingers brush against something smooth and unfamiliar. Curiously, you pull it out—a black protective mask, worn and slightly scuffed. Recognition sparks immediately, and you smile.

“Wait, is this the mask you wore when you broke your nose?” you ask, holding it up, remembering the match where Kylian played through the injury, that mask becoming a symbol of his resilience and determination.

Kylian looks over and grins, a mixture of pride and nostalgia in his eyes. “Yeah, I didn’t realize I still had that. Thought I got rid of it.”

You can’t resist the urge to slip it on, the cool material fitting snugly over your face. You turn toward him, your voice slightly muffled behind the mask. “I’m batman!”

He chuckles, throwing another shirt into his suitcase. “Don’t you mean Batwoman?”

You grin beneath the mask, peeling it off with a playful flourish. “No,” you say, voice softening into a low, teasing tone. “I have always been on team Catwoman.” Your eyes meet his, glinting mischievously as you draw out the last word. You curl your fingers into mock claws. “Miaau.”

Kylian freezes mid-laugh, his smile fading just a bit as something shifts in the air. His gaze flicks to your hand, the way your fingers mimic the slow, teasing swipe of claws. You didn’t mean anything by it—at least, not at first—but now there’s a heat building in his stare that makes your heart skip.

He clears his throat, trying to brush it off with a casual shrug. “Catwoman, huh? That’s cute.”

Cute?

You rock your hips as you walk across the room. “Careful, sweetheart… I play rough.”

“Stop,” he cuts you off. But you notice the change. Something in his voice has thickened, a hesitation beneath his words. Sensing his sudden interest, you decide to push it a little further. Crawling onto the bed, you prowl closer, your movements slow, deliberate. “What, afraid of a little scratch?” you ask, your voice dipping lower, more playful.

“Y/N....” he warns. “Come on, I’m trying to pack. My ride to the airport is going to be here in an hour.” His voice suddenly hard, darker than you’ve ever heard it. His expression has changed, the usual boyish grin gone, replaced by something far more intense.

He looks away for a moment, as if trying to shake off whatever’s stirring inside him.

You sit by the edge of the bed, legs crossing. “It’s just a little teasing.” You tease.

“Well, you’re playing a dangerous game,” He murmurs, his voice rougher than before, his body tense, as though he’s holding something back.

Your heart races, but you can’t resist pushing a little more. “Maybe I like danger,” you say, your smile coy, your lips barely curving as you sit back, still playing the part.

Kylian’s eyes finally snap back to yours, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. He should laugh it off. He should make a joke, push you away, anything to bring things back to normal. But he doesn’t. Instead, he takes a slow step closer, “Good.” he says. His gaze locked on yours, the heat in his eyes unmistakable now. “I’ll make sure you get an unforgettable dose.”

You swallow hard, his gaze darkening as his resolve starts to crack. He’s close now, too close, and you feel the air between you change—charged, electric.

Your breath hitches, the air between you charged with something dangerous, something unspoken. His fingers brush against your cheek, trailing down to your jawline, tracing the edge of the mask. It’s a light touch, but it sends shivers through you. There’s a possessiveness in the way he looks at you now, as if the mask has unlocked something darker in him and he’s waiting for you to surrender.

You don’t move, don’t dare to break the tension as his hand slides lower, curling gently around your throat. His grip is firm but not harsh. “Let’s see how far you’ll go..” He whispers, lips brushing the edge of the mask. “, Kitty cat.”

And then, without warning, he closes the distance. His mouth crashes into yours, fierce and unapologetic, a kiss that’s raw, possessive, full of dark longing. It’s not gentle; it’s hungry, like he’s been holding back for too long and now, with the thought of leaving, he can’t anymore. His hand tightens at the base of your neck, pulling you closer, as if he’s claiming you in that moment, his body pressed flush against yours.

The kiss deepens, the taste of him overwhelming, his tongue sliding against yours with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. Every touch, every movement, feels like it’s laced with a deep desire, the urgency of time slipping away, and the desire to make this moment last. His other hand grips your waist firmly, possessively, like he can’t let go, as if everything else ceases to exist in this instant.

The mask on your face amplifies the tension, making you feel both vulnerable and powerful, like you’ve stepped into a side of him you’ve never seen before. His breath is hot against your skin as he pulls back, his voice hoarse with desire.

“I just hope...” He strips off his shirt. “.. You know what you’re getting yourself into.“

He’s on top of you again, gives your lips a taste and takes your hands in his, pinning them above your head.

“These stay up.” He lets you know.

Then he kisses you again, this time slower, but no less intense, like he’s savoring the moment, as if trying to memorize every inch of you before the world pulls him away. Instantly your hands move to grab the back of his neck and he pulls away, pinning them once more above your head.

“Up, I said.” He warns, and you gulp.

He pulls your shirt up, and the cups of your bra down to suck on the soft flesh of your breasts.

“Fuck,” you mutter, then you close your eyes, lips pressed flat. Heat hitting your cheeks.

This time you intend to comply. But oh, his kisses...

His kisses were fire, ever burning on your skin. And you can’t fight the urge not to grab him by his neck and pull him closer to you.

So you do as you please. You pull him closer and he shoots back by leaving your breasts bare. His eyes are dark, intense, and magnetic, holding a captivating depth. They shimmer with an untamed desire, as if constantly yearning for something just beyond reach.

“I guess we’ll have it my way then.” He breathes, undoing his belt.

The click of the metal buckle clinging in your ears and your heart. The rustling of the freed belt sends a shiver down your spine. He ties your hands with his belt. The leather is slightly cool on your wrists. Pinning your hands above your head once more.

“They stay up there.” He orders and you nod.

His gaze lingers on you, his eyes reflecting the promise of what is to come, as you lay there, hands bound and heart pounding, completely at his mercy.

He strips your lower part naked.

“Now..” His eyes darken. “I’ll have you as I’ll have you. And I’ll take you how I’ll take you. And there’s not a single thing to do about it.”

You clear your throat and you contemplate whether you should say something or stay silent.

“Spread those knees, baby. Let me see that pussy from up here.”

You part your knees, allowing him to see you. And his expression turns hard.

“Now, while you’re down there you’re gonna look up at me with those eyes and watch me lick you clean.” His words are demanding and dark. It makes your stomach feel funny. He gets down on his knees and your stare at his back muscles flex as he grips your thighs in a possessive manner.

You jolt as he starts kissing your thighs and making his way to your core. His breath fans over your clit, and you whine, doing your best not to moan.

“Now who’s playing rough, huh?” He whispers. And before you can answer, his head dips, and his dark hair tickles against your legs seconds before his mouth fastens around your clit. Your hips buck, but he holds you still, gripping your thighs to hold you in place, and to anchor his face right where he wants it. He’s sucking and flicking his tongue at the same time, ratcheting up the pleasure with each passing second. It’s almost too intense.

It’s almost too much.

He merely growls against you, the vibrations of his voice driving you that much closer to that powerful edge.

Sweat accumulates under the mask.

The scent of your arousal mingles with the musty smell of the mask, creating a heady and intoxicating aroma that fills the air. His tongue is rough yet gentle, devouring you with a skillful touch. The texture of the protective mask scratches against your nose, adding to the overwhelming sensation.

“Kylian... Oh fuck, please...”

He wrenches his lips from your clit.

“Please what?”

“I can’t.. Please...” You beg, you can’t form words. But he doesn’t give you what you want. He works according to his own book.

He sucks on your clit until the pressure becomes unbearably hot. White stars dance behind your eyelids as you whimper in short, choppy breaths.

You can’t say it, but by the way your fists are clenched and your hips are bucking, lips pressed flat. He knows you would be begging for him to go faster, harder, to be touched all over. Your hands are clasped together like you’re praying, and he wonders how good you’d look kneeling on the floor. But he’ll save that for later, right now he wants you to suffer a bit. So he stops completely and you gasp out in frustration.

“Fuck!” You groan angrily. Trying to move your hands to do it yourself, he smirks that you are tied up nicely. And he thinks that you’ll have to do this more often.

“Tell me how bad you want me to touch you.” He whispers.

“So, so fucking bad,” you whimper. “I’ll do anything.”

“You wanna make me proud, don’t you?”

You nod. “Yes.”

“So, make me proud. Come on my face.” He thrusts his tongue in your opening, and you shamelessly scream in pleasure.

He dives into your core, licking your clit slowly and running his fingers through your slit. He doesn’t hesitate to put in two fingers, watching as you muffle a gasp out in pleasure. He pumps them in and out slowly, reaching with his free hand to squeeze your hip.

“Kylian... I—.. I’m coming, I’m coming.” You repeat and he smiles before kissing your thighs again and then looking back at you. Pulling back.

Why the fuck is he pulling back?

“Kylian...?” Your eyebrows furrow. “Don’t do this, please.”

He stands tall and your eyes follow his every move.

“Kylian... I swear to God..” You threat. Eyes burning in fury. “Don’t play this game.”

“What’s the matter? I thought you liked games?” He bites his lower lip and it irritates you. It frustrates you how you allowed him to take control and he’s taking advantage of it.

“Please, Kylian. Let me.”

“Let you what?”

“Let me come.”

“Mmm.” Pretending to be thinking. He stands tall and unbuttons then unzips his jeans to ease the tightness in his pants. Then he towers over you. “Non.”

Then his fingers are inside you again. With each flick of his finger on your nub, he turns the pace up slowly, higher and higher, until your breaths are shallow and whimpers sound.

“Please. I’m sorry—so sorry.” There are tears welling in your eyes. You just want to be released. “I shouldn’t have teased you. Really, I shouldn’t have. But I couldn’t help it.”

“Ouais.” He pulls his fingers out and lifts his hand to his mouth, his two fingers coated with your cream. He savors the sweetness. A soft *click* echoes as his lips release them. “You shouldn’t have. But I’ll make sure you learn your lesson.” His expression is one of indulgence, completely absorbed in the creamy delight.

He hovers over you and grabs the belt that’s wrapped around your hands and effortlessly pulls you up. You sit in front of him. On the same level as his torso.

He amends the issue quickly, standing before you and pulling his jeans a bit down, just enough to free his hard member. You watch with undivided interest when his length springs free of his boxers. Your gaze locks right on it, deepening into a look of pure want.

“Do you see this cock? Do you see that pre-cum? Dripping already.” He teases you, pumping himself once as his blood rises to the surface.

“Do you see how it’s not in your mouth?” He strokes his length with his fist. “Too bad it’s gonna stay that way.”

What?

“Kylian...” You try to complain, but he cuts your words.

“Play with yourself. Play with it the way I like to watch.” He demands while stepping backwards to rest against one of the moving boxes.

Shock pummels through you, but you don’t hesitate, not with his face looking so intense. You don’t question his demand, not once. And with your fingers you reach for between your wobbly legs, throwing your head back.

“No, no, no. Keep your eyes on me, baby.”

You make eye contact. Your face hot, and he bites his lip at the sight. How you’re completely and entirely helpless. How your eyes glaze over with pure bliss.

“Look at you being a good girl already. It would be a damn shame to stop. Wouldn’t it?” He asks and you whine.

Slicking up his hand, wrapping it around his member, and rubbing it up and down. You can see the skin sliding back and forth.

He strokes it faster now, his breath rigid.

“So..” He breathes. “Stop.”

What the fuck?!

“Kylian, no!” You shout, already frustrated by his mind games.

“Hands off.” He orders. “On your knees, face down.”

You lean forward, facing away from him. Your arms rested on the mattress when you hear his devotions; words spoken in a voice that drifted away from you. Being most devout he stands behind you and growls.

“You’re gonna get fucked the way you deserve. Do you understand?”

You whimper.

“Come here.” He grips your hips and you gasp.

*Ding-dong*

The sudden, sharp sound of the doorbell cuts through the quiet, startling in the room.

“Hmm. Would you look at that. It’s my ride to the airport.” He pushes himself away from you, putting his clothes back on. “Keep it wet.”

Kylian moves quickly to the door as you fall quiet, the tension easing just slightly. The sound of the door creaking open is followed by muffled voices outside. His tone is low, almost casual, but there’s an edge of urgency in his words. Through the door, you catch snippets of his conversation.

“Yeah, that’s them… Just grab the bags... There’s one more upstairs. I’ll go get it.” He says, his voice faint but clear enough to recognize the familiar instructions.

He bounds up the stairs with quick, purposeful strides, the soft thud of his shoes barely muffled by the carpet. The muted creak of the wooden steps follows him as he ascends.

He clothes the door behind him. His eyes suddenly turn to mischief.

“Keep. Your mouth. Shut.” He warns.

He grasps the back of your neck with firm fingers, pulling you toward him with an intensity that leaves no room for hesitation.

“He can wait.” He says mid-kiss. Then your lips collide again with a raw force, his breath mingling with yours as he claims your mouth in a heated, possessive kiss. As if trying to consume every part of you in that moment. He snatches his lips away from yours.

He doesn’t say anything. He simply grabs his bag and hurries downstairs. It takes him good two minutes to get back to you. Closing the door behind him.

He exhales sharply, his shoulders slumping as the frustration washes over him. Then he walks toward you. “Open.”

Open what?

He slaps your left thigh with his hand to part your legs. And then you hear him spit. It wets your core with a faint splatter.

He pounds into you with a deep, strong thrust. And a sharp moan pours from your throat, followed by his name.

He’s grunting through the thrusts and you lick along the seam of your lips, as if to taste his name on your tongue. And you moan loudly.

“That’s a good fucking girl. That’s a good fucking girl.” He praises. Sweat building up.

Wanting more of a friction. More of him. You throw your head back and you match his movements. Bouncing back so he can get even deeper into you and hit that spot.

“There you go, throw it back. Bounce that ass on me the way I like it. Come on.” He groans. His tone frantic.

You flinch, your brain beginning to split and latch on to the fact that you’re being fucked in a way you never knew you would like.

He pulls you by your hips and you sink your face on the mattress because you can’t take it no more. Screaming into it with pleasure.

“I’m gonna ride you. I’m gonna fucking ride you till you can’t fucking walk.”

He groans into the skin of your back.

“This is what you’ve been waiting for, isn’t it? Well here it fucking is, so fucking take it.”

He fucks you harder, seeming to get off on your body.

This entire situation is beyond fucked up. Yet, it becomes impossible to feel a damn thing outside of the orgasm looming.

Cries pour from your throat, and he moans them all off, proving just how starved he is.

“Don’t stop,” You gasp, your voice strained. “Fuck, Kylian, please.”

His lips retreat from your back, and he hovers over your back only to grab your jaw and turn your face to the side and take your lips between his teeth.

His thrusts are even deeper now as he moans against your mouth. “Take that fucking cock. Come on. Come on. Fuck me.”

His kiss trail down to your neck. You lose all coherent thought, your surroundings becoming disjointed and incomprehensible. The pleasure is like a disease, shutting down your nervous system and taking control. You’re a slave to his power. Drunk on his love, and there’s nothing you can do but succumb.

“Fuck me good.” He whimpers. “Fais-moi jouir.” (make me cum) He repeats and your bones liquefy, the muscles surrounding them seize. Vaguely, you feel rather than hear the broken cry leave your throat.

“I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum.” He whispers hazily.

And with that announcement, his body tenses up. Your back is arching like the string of a bow.

He closes his eyes as the orgasm surges through him, tidal waves at first, turning into ripples that slowly ebb out, leaving every muscle of his body absolutely exhausted. Then he releases, your head slumping forward as he explodes into his orgasm, groaning loudly, shamelessly, probably having the chauffeur worried.

Time stills, and you shatter just as he releases on your back, sending blood rushing to your head, intensifying the explosion detonating throughout your body.

Your thighs shake, your eyes roll back in their sockets and you scream out your orgasm, and clasp one hand over your own mouth, moaning quietly.

You allow yourself to fall flat on the mattress. Your cries still audible. Catching for breath as you remove the sweaty mask.

He rests his head on your back. His sweaty face pressed against it. His body going completely limp.

He stands with his dick in his hand, mind completely empty, panting heavily, eyelids fluttering. You feel disoriented, like you don’t really remember where you are.

“Shit.” He mutters. “I have a plane to catch.”

You sit on the edge of the bed and watch him get dressed as you do too.

The light from the window illuminates the dust motes dancing in the air, and the room feels a mix of nostalgia and emptiness.

You leave for the bathroom to pull yourself together. It’s not like it’s the first time he leaves for another country.

Deep breaths and a few wipes against your face fixes the issue... For now.

You get back into the bedroom to see him sitting on the bed, phone in his hand.

“Got everything?” You block your sad thoughts.

“Not quite yet.” He gets up, then presses the black mask into your palm and you laugh.

Did you just unlock a new kink in him?

“You’re not serious...”

He surprises his smile and shows you his phone screen.

You glance at the phone, your eyes widening as you take in the detailed design of the costume. The soft, velvety material and the delicate, whiskered mask were perfectly tailored. Then your eyes dart to the sentence:

‘Thank you for ordering Smitten Kitten Costume!’

You look at him.

“We need to have a serious conversation, young man.” You imply.

He tucks his phone in his pocket and smirks. “Call me batman.”

A/N: I’m sorry... No I’m not.

competition

warnings: cuteness (my heart literally melt)

genre:fluff; kylianxfem!reader

summary: Kylian can't stand kitten videos anymore, so what's better than actually gifting you one?

author's note: I’m really going to miss seeing our little croissant play for the next three weeks! It’s just so sad and i want to cry. Every time I watch him on the pitch, I find myself literally ADMIRING him , and honestly, it’s starting to worry me about my mental health...

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩

You’ve been dreaming about adopting a kitten for what feels like forever—weeks of obsessively sending Kylian video after video of fluffy kittens, each with the same unspoken message: “I need one.”

He’s honestly not sure how this kitten craze of yours even started. Maybe it was that time you found a kitty on the street and immediately dropped to your knees, practically begging him to take it home with you. He still remembers the way your face fell when you found out the kitten already had an owner. Ever since then, you’ve been on a mission.

It’s gotten kind of relentless. At first, Kylian thought it was cute, how every few hours you’d send him another kitten clip with heart eyes and a not-so-subtle, “Look at this one! Isn’t it adorable?” But now, it’s reached a point where every time his phone dings, he knows it’s another video of a kitten doing something cute, followed by your predictable "I want one so bad."

The man can only take so much.

And for Kylian, saying no to you is basically impossible. He could ignore the hints for a while, but the way you light up whenever the topic of kittens comes up? Yeah, there’s no way he’s letting this one slide much longer.

“Amour,” Kylian’s deep, playful voice echoes through your temporary apartment as he closes the door behind him. You barely glance up from your phone, lost in yet another kitten video that you’ll definitely be sending him in a few minutes.

But his tone catches your attention. There’s something different in it—something secretive.

“Amour,” he repeats, this time a bit more mischievous. “I have a surprise for you.”

That’s all it takes. Your heart skips a beat, and you scramble to your feet, tossing your phone onto the couch without a second thought. You rush down the hallway toward him, excitement bubbling up inside you.

“Kylian, what is it? What’s going on?” you ask breathlessly, practically bouncing on your toes. You’re not great with surprises, mainly because your curiosity knows no bounds, and Kylian knows that all too well.

He grins, clearly enjoying your impatience. “Patience, chérie,” he teases, holding his hands behind his back. “Close your eyes first.”

You let out an exaggerated groan but obey, squeezing your eyes shut. “You know I hate this, right?”

He chuckles, and you can hear him moving closer. “I know. But you’ll love this.”

There’s a moment of silence, and you feel like you’re going to explode from anticipation. Then, just as you’re about to cheat and peek, you hear it—a tiny, delicate meow.

Your eyes snap open before Kylian can even tell you to, and your breath catches in your throat. In his arms, nestled against his chest, is the most adorable, tiny kitten you’ve ever seen. Its fur is a mix of cream and gray, and its big, round blue eyes blink up at you with curiosity.

“Oh my God,” you gasp, your hands flying to your mouth as you stare in disbelief.

Kylian laughs softly, clearly proud of himself as he watches your reaction. “I couldn’t handle the constant kitten videos anymore,” he teases, shifting the tiny bundle of fur in his arms so you can get a better look. “So I figured I’d just… bring you one.”

You’re speechless, your hands trembling as you reach out to take the kitten from him. It’s so small, so delicate, and it lets out the tiniest purr as soon as it’s nestled in your arms, pressing its little head against your chest. 

“I love you,” you murmur, though you’re not entirely sure whether you’re saying it to Kylian or the kitten. Maybe both.

“I know,” he replies, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “But do you love me more than the kitten?”

You giggle, shaking your head as you hold the kitten closer. “Well, the kitten is pretty cute. You’ve got some competition now.”

He feigns offense, raising an eyebrow as if wounded, but the act doesn’t last long. Watching you tenderly cradle the tiny kitten in your lap, gently stroking its soft fur, his heart can’t help but melt.“So… have you thought of a name yet? Or are you just going to call it ‘kitten’ forever?”

You look down at the tiny fluff ball in your lap. A name? You hadn’t even gotten that far in your daydreams.

“Hm, I don’t know… I kind of like ‘kitten,’” you joke, earning a groan from Kylian. “No, seriously! Look at this face. It’s like pure kitten energy.”

“Amour, we are not calling it ‘kitten,’” Kylian says, though he can’t help but smile.

You tap your chin playfully, as if deep in thought, then look up at Kylian with a soft smile. “I think I need to really take my time with this,” you say, your tone serious but with a hint of teasing. “It’s a big decision, and I don’t want to rush it.”

Kylian raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You’re telling me we need to schedule a whole naming ceremony for this kitten?”

“Obviously,” you reply with a grin, gently stroking the kitten’s fur. “It’s an important choice. I’ll need some time… and maybe a little inspiration.”

Kylian leans in, his voice playful. “Oh? And how do you plan on finding this inspiration, chérie?”

You tilt your head and flash him a warm smile. “By cuddling with my two favorite babies,” you say softly, looking between him and the kitten. “That should give me all the inspiration I need.”

Kylian’s expression softens instantly, his eyes sparkling as he leans in closer, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. “Your two babies, huh?” he murmurs against your skin, his voice low and affectionate.

“Mm-hmm,” you hum, leaning into him as you settle against his chest. “My big baby and my little baby. Both equally important.”As you lean into Kylian’s embrace, you watch the tiny kitten stir slightly before making its way to his stomach. With a delicate hop, it settles right on top of him, curling into a tiny ball, its soft purring almost harmonizing with the rise and fall of Kylian’s breathing.

You can’t help but smile, feeling your heart practically melt at the sight. There’s something about seeing Kylian, this towering, athletic man, with such a delicate creature nestled on his chest that makes the moment even sweeter.

“Oh my God,” you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. “Look at her.”

Kylian glances down at the little fluff ball, a small chuckle escaping him. “She’s already making herself at home,” he says softly, his fingers lightly grazing the kitten’s fur. “Can’t say I blame her, though. I’m pretty comfortable, right?”

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩

LMAOOOOOOO FRRR

They are all made by me, actually all three represent me

via k.mbappe on instagram