Kylian Mbappe X Reader - Tumblr Posts

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

Baby Blues

Masterlist

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

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Husband!Kylian Mbappé x Wife!you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 3.5k

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

Pregnancy was a scam.

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

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

But it was just too hard.

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

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

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

It was sweet. It really was.

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

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

Maybe some toast.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded against him and smiled. "Okay."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-Bianca🌻

Hey

Hello everyone!

I haven't posted since Sunday because I'm currently working on a request. It's a long one. Probably the longest I've ever written so it took some time. I'm almost done though so it should be out tomorrow morning. In the meantime here's a sneak peek.

****

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

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

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

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

****

In the meantime, I want to share my thoughts about France losing today's match. What a rollercoaster. So proud of the team for getting as far as they did. Super proud of Kylian for playing even with his injury. I'm always amazed by his strength, resilience, and passion for the sport. I hope he's not kicking himself too badly about the loss.

Hopefully, his time at Real Madrid will be full success.

That's all I wanted to say. I hope everyone has a good night/day😊

-Bianca🌻

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

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

Love Heals

Masterlist

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

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Kylian Mbappé x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 11.k

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

The restaurant was busier than usual tonight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

Y/N.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

You were fired.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, I’ll be okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded, not wanting to get out.

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

****

It was weeks before you would see him again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Kylian was such a good person.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was yours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

The weeks that followed were amazing.

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

It felt good to have someone care.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that day never came.

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

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

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

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

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

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

One you were too afraid to face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your heart skipped a beat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, no.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He truly believed what he was saying. But how?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kylian's brows furrowed at your words.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your heart sank.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The screen shattered under her heel.

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

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

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

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

You knew what was coming.

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

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

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

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

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

And you were the prey.

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

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

Maybe she was right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

Kylian was a man of instinct.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No response.

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

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

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

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

Unconscious.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Physical therapy was the hardest.

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

Everyday was a battle a war within yourself.

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

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

But Kylian made it easy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You froze at his last sentence.

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

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

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

"I love you too, Kylian Mbappé."

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

****

Two years later...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You really married him.

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

Which was saying something.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You turn around, meeting his eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes flutter close at his words.

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

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

A treat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your Kylian.

-Bianca🌻

Can you do a kylian mbappe fic, where the reader falls asleep on him and his friends are finding that moment very cute ??

Sleepy

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — You fall asleep on Kylian's after a long day at work.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Kylian Mbappé x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 2.0k

Warnings! FLUFF, sleepy reader, Kylian's friends treating you like a sister, domestic vibes,

You were exhausted.

Absolutely wrecked.

You had just finished what seemed to be the longest shift of your life. Kids screaming at the back, customers asking for stupid shit, your manager breathing down your neck. You could barely walk, your feet were killing you so much.

All you wanted was to go home, crawl into bed, and snuggle up next to your boyfriend.

"I'm off!" You called to your coworker Aisha, as you slipped your sneakers on and grabbed your bag. The cool evening air hit your face as you stepped out of the building, a small relief after the stuffy air you'd been breathing in all day.

You pulled your jacket tighter around you, feeling the weight of the day start to lift, if only slightly, with each step you took away from work.

You love your job. Truly you do.

But the long hours and the stress were starting to take its toll. You knew that you would need a break. Heck, part of you wanted to quit. But you also loved the kids who came in every day. You loved the regulars. The pay. The benefits. It was hard to say goodbye to all of that, even if you did want to.

But you didn't have time to think about that right now. You had your mind on other things.

Like your boyfriend. And his warm bed.

You could almost smell the familiar scent of his cologne and the fabric softener he used on his sheets as you walked to your car. Your car, which was still parked on the side of the road, thankfully not towed, despite the parking permit having expired 2 hours ago.

You breathed a small sigh of relief as you pulled open the door and slumped into your seat. The leather was soft under your legs, which you were extremely grateful for after the day you'd had.

Your stomach rumbled softly, reminding you that you hadn't eaten in several hours. You mentally checked your fridge, trying to remember if there was anything edible in there. You vaguely recalled seeing a bowl of macaroni courtesy of Fayza who had visited three days ago.

You put the car into drive and started the drive home.

You were so ready to be in bed. So ready to be back with your boyfriend. You pulled into the driveway, and stepped out of your car, slamming the door closed behind you. You locked it, and started towards the house.

The living room lights were still on, and the window was open just enough to hear a few muffled voices. Your heart skipped a beat.

You didn't realize he had company.

You let yourself in, and looked around the living room. Kylian was sitting on the couch with Hakimi and Ousmane. They all had beers in hand and were watching a football game on the TV. Fuck. Why were they here?

Kylian caught sight of you and smiled, standing up to greet you. "Hey bébé! How was your day?" He asked, kissing your cheek. You shrugged, shoulders slumping as you felt tears gather in your waterline. The day was finally getting to you.

"It sucked," You muttered, pressing your forehead against his shoulder.

Kylian frowned at the sight of your tears, and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer. "What happened?" He asked softly after walking you over to the kitchen as the boys were still distracted by the game. He could tell something was wrong. You're not the type to cry. About anything. It worried him.

He led you to a barstool and gently nudged you to sit down, then opened the fridge and handed you a bottle of water. You took it gratefully, the coolness soothing against your palm as you fumbled with the cap.

"Just… everything," you sighed, taking a sip and feeling the tears threaten to spill over. "The kids were crazy, the customers were worse, and Aisha… she had her own problems, so I had to pick up the slack."

Kylian's brows knitted together in concern, his gaze unwavering as he listened. "You should've called me," he said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "I could've come by, brought you something to eat, at least."

You shook your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. "You had practice, and then… this," you gestured toward the living room where his friends were still engrossed in the game. "I didn't want to bother you."

His eyes softened, and he leaned in, resting his forehead against yours. "You could never bother me. You're the most important thing to me, you know that, right?"

A warmth spread through your chest, and you nodded, feeling some of the day's weight lift off your shoulders. Kylian always had a way of making you feel seen, even when you were at your lowest.

"I know," you whispered, closing your eyes for a moment to savor the closeness. "I just… I need a break, Ky. I can't keep doing this every day."

He pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on your shoulders. "Then take one. We'll figure it out. We can go away for a few days, or even just spend a weekend doing nothing but relaxing. Whatever you need, bébé."

You managed a small smile, feeling the exhaustion start to ebb away. "That sounds nice," you admitted. "I just want to be with you. Away from all the noise and stress."

Kylian's grin was infectious, and he kissed you gently, his lips lingering on yours. "We'll make it happen. I promise."

Just then, Hakimi's voice called from the living room, breaking the moment. "Hey, Kylian! Are we ordering food or what?"

Kylian sighed and looked back at you, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "You okay if they stay for a bit? We can kick them out if you want."

You chuckled, feeling a bit lighter. "No, it's fine. I'll just join you guys. If that's okay, I don't want to interrupt."

Kylian's eyes softened at the shyness in your tone. "Of course, it's okay. You know the guys love having you around."

You felt a pang of warmth in your chest at his words. Even though you wanted him to yourself, you didn't mind the boys. You knew that if you asked him to he would send the boys away without hesitation.

But it was already so late, you knew he must have wanted to spend the evening with his friends. Besides they were funny and you could use a laugh or two. You took a deep breath and let it out slowly, allowing yourself to relax a little more.

"Alright," you said, your voice steadier. "Just let me change into something more comfortable first."

Kylian nodded, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze before you headed to the bedroom. He watched you go, brows furrowed in worry. You seemed really tired. And that worried him.

He knew that the job was taking a lot out of you. You were working almost every day. He was proud of you, and knew you could do it, but he was also concerned. You had told him the other day about how stressed you'd been feeling. But he knew you wouldn't want to quit.

You slip out of your work clothes and into a pair of soft, worn pajamas. Rolling your tired shoulders, you could hear the low hum of the TV and the occasional burst of laughter from the living room. Letting out a deep sigh you glanced at yourself in the mirror, noticing the faint shadows under your eyes and the slight droop of your shoulders.

When you returned to the living room, you were greeted with cheers and a playful whistle from Hakimi. "Looking cozy!" he teased, raising his beer in salute.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips. "Thanks. You guys ordering food or just watching the game?"

"We're definitely ordering," Ousmane piped up, his eyes glued to the screen. "Any preferences?"

"Pizza sounds good," you suggested, earning a chorus of agreement from the guys.

Kylian handed you a beer, and you settled onto the couch next to him, feeling his arm drape comfortably around your shoulders. "Feeling better?" he asked, his voice a gentle murmur against your ear.

You nodded, leaning into him. "Yeah. This is nice," you admitted, feeling the warmth of his body seeping into yours, grounding you. The tension in your body slowly melted away as you nestled against Kylian.

You listened to the boys chat and laugh, and you felt a small smile cross your face. You were so happy to hear him laughing with his friends. You loved the way he smiled when they made him laugh. Kylian caught your eye and smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

The game was getting intense, and you could tell the boys were all invested in it. You rested your head on Kylian's shoulder, and felt yourself start to drift off. The sound of their cheers and chatter faded into a mumble as your eyelids got heavier and heavier.

You fell asleep, lulled by the sounds of the game and Kylian's gentle stroking of your back.

"Look" Hakimi whispered to Ousmane, gesturing to you. You were fast asleep, snoring softly sprawled across Kylian's lap, his arms wrapped loosely around you. The sight was absolutely adorable. Your mouth was half open and you looked so soft. They cooed at the sight of you.

Kylian looked at you and smiled softly, a look of pure adoration on his face. His gaze was soft as he brushed the hair away from your face. "She had a long day today," he murmured. "She's been working so much lately."

The boys nodded sympathetically, glancing down at you. "She's stubborn, though, refuses to quit." Kylian continued softly, his fingers gently tracing the curve of your cheek. "I don't know how she manages it all, day in and day out."

Hakimi nodded, his expression mirroring understanding. "She looks so peaceful now." You really did, but then again you always looked like that when you were around Kylia. So did he.

Everyone could see how perfect you were for each other. How you two were meant to be. You were the light of Kylian's world, the center of his universe. You were his everything, his love, his heart, his soul. And he was the same to you.

They looked at the two of you and couldn't help but feel warm inside. "I'm glad she has you to come home to," Ousmane said softly.

Kylian's lips curved in a gentle smile as his eyes lingered on you. "Me too." His voice was filled with emotion, his heart beating fast at the sight of you sleeping peacefully. "Me too."

The boys glanced at each other and smiled. They had known Kylian for so long now, they had seen the way he used to act before you came into his life. He was cold and distant. Lonely. Never being in a relationship for more than a couple of months before he was gone. But he changed after you came along. You brought warmth into his life, love, and joy. You brought colour to his world, and lit up his life.

And they were forever grateful for you. For taking care of their brother. For making him this happy.

Kylian glanced at you again and smiled. He was so happy to have you in his life. He was so glad to have you by his side. He wanted to wake you up, kiss you, tell you that he loved you. But he didn't want to ruin the moment.

The three friends sat in companionable silence for a while, occasionally murmuring comments about the game but mostly watching you sleep. The tension of the day seemed to have melted away from your features, replaced by a serene calmness that tugged at Kylian's heartstrings.

"She's gonna wake up hungry," Hakimi joked quietly, breaking the silence with a grin.

Kylian chuckled softly, adjusting his position to make you more comfortable. "Probably. We should order that pizza soon."

"Yeah, yeah," Ousmane agreed with a nod, but he made no move to get up just yet, clearly content to enjoy the moment a little longer.

-Bianca🌻

Heyyyyyyy. I love your imagines. I was wondering in honor of Kylian joining Real Madrid today, Can you make an fluff imagine where you go with him to his Real Madrid presentation with his family and friends to support him and it’s cute behind the scenes moments leading up to his presentation ? An already established relationship .

Thank Youuu ❤️

I'm so excited about Kylian joining Real Madrid. So proud of him. I wish him success in his future, and may he accomplish all his goals💛

Sorry if this one is a little wonky, wrote it on my lunch break.

Presentation Day

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — You support Kylian on his presentation day.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Kylian Mbappé x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 3.2k

Warnings! FLUFF, supportive reader, Kylian is playing for Madrid y'all!!!

Today is the day.

The day that Kylian had been waiting for his whole life. The day that would mark a significant milestone in his career. The day that he would be presented as a Real Madrid player.

You're so proud of him. You can't even put it into words. You've seen him work so hard for this. How much he's sacrificed to get here. It's a day that he deserves to celebrate and you can't wait to do just that. By his side.

You still can't believe that you're here for this. You can't believe that he picked you to be here with him for this special day. You can't believe that you've been able to be a part of his life these past three years.

You remember the day you met him. You had just started working at a popular news company and your first assignment was to attend a Paris-Saint Germain game that he was playing at. You were doing some interviews with some of his new teammates and he walked by and you couldn't help but stare at him. He had this air about him, this confidence, this spark in his eyes that made you just want to know him.

When he walked into the room where you were doing the interviews, you almost dropped the microphone in your hands. He was so handsome up close, so charming. You introduced yourself to him and you couldn't help but stare at him. You were nervous as hell but he made you feel at ease. He made you feel so comfortable in his presence and you found yourself laughing and joking with him.

After the interview, Kylian offered to show you around the stadium. You couldn't believe it. Here you were, walking beside one of the most talented footballers in the world, chatting like old friends. He was easy to talk to and genuinely interested in your work. Though the conversation was very surface level you were surprised at how down-to-earth he was.

By the end of the tour, he asked for your number. To your delight, you exchanged numbers, not entirely sure if he would actually reach out. But he did, later that evening, and from that day on, you started texting each other regularly.

It wasn't long after that he asked you to be his girlfriend. You said yes and you two became inseparable. The chemistry was undeniable between you two. You couldn't get enough of each other.

You went to his games, you were there for him when he needed you and you were his rock. He was your everything.

You never could have imagined that three years later, you would be standing in the bathroom of your new home, getting ready for his presentation at the Santiago Bernabéu.

You're wearing a black jumpsuit with a gold belt that accentuates your waist. You've curled your hair and did your makeup. You're even wearing the gold necklace that he bought for you last week. You want to make sure that you look good for him. You want to make sure that he knows that he deserves this day. That he deserves everything that he's worked for.

You're slipping your shoes on when you feel a tap on your ass. Without even looking up you know who it is. You roll your eyes at his antics but can't help the smile that creeps onto your face.

Even after all these years together, you still get butterflies in your stomach when he touches you.

"Kylian," you scold, but the playfulness in your tone tells him you're not really mad, "do you have to do that every time?"

He grins, his touch lingering a moment longer before he steps back, hands in his pockets. "Sorry, couldn't resist," he replies, his tone light but his eyes betraying a hint of nerves. You know he's trying to keep it together, trying to stay calm for what lies ahead.

"Tu es magnifique," he says, his voice softening as he steps closer, his hands finding your waist. His French accent is as sexy as ever. Sending child down your spine as his hands continue to hold you close. His eyes raking your figure in the mirror.

You look perfect.

You blush, your eyes meeting his. "Thank you."

"I mean it," he whispers, his gaze sincere, his grip on your waist tightening. "You look so beautiful." He meets your eyes in the mirror again. "I'm so lucky to have you." He pulls you flush against his chest. "Tu es la femme de mes rêve." His lips brush against your ear. "I couldn't imagine being here without you." He finishes his words with a gentle kiss to your neck.

Your heart melts. Your heart beats faster. You've heard him say these words before. You've heard them more than once but each time still gives you butterflies. Each time makes you love him even more.

You lean back into him, wrapping your arms around his around your waist, savoring this intimate moment with him before you have to share him with the world.

"You ready?" he asks softly, breaking the peaceful silence.

You turn to face him, his hands still holding you close, your arms finding their way around his neck. You bury your face in his chest. You take a deep breath and breathe him in. You smell the cologne he's wearing.

"I should be asking you that" you whisper, your hands resting lightly on his chest. You can feel his heartbeat under your palms, steady but perhaps a beat faster than usual.

"I'm a little nervous," he admits with a small frown, his fingers tracing absent-minded patterns on your waist.

You know how much he's worked for this. You know how much pressure he's under. You know how much he wants this. But you also know that he's going to do great. You know that he's ready for this.

You reach up to cup his cheeks in your hands, your eyes soft and encouraging. "It's okay to be nervous," you assure him with a reassuring smile. "But you're going to do amazing. You're Kylian Mbappé You're going to rock this. I know you will. You've worked so hard for this." You tell him, your hands finding their way to his neck, your thumbs rubbing gentle circles against the skin there.

He's silent for a moment before he pulls you into a tight hug, his head burying in your neck. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close, letting him take comfort in you. You let him hold you like this for a few seconds, feeling him breathe you in.

"I love you, thank you for doing this with me. For being here." he mumbles into your skin, his voice so soft and so sweet.

You smile. Your heart racing at his words.

"I love you too," you whisper back.

He pulls back, his eyes meeting yours. "Seriously bébé," he says, his voice soft but full of conviction. "I couldn't have done this without you. Thank you for being with me every step of the way. You've sacrificed so much to move here with me. I will never be able to thank you enough for all the things you do for me. I promise to always be there for you, to support you, to make you happy. To be the best boyfriend I can be. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me." His hand rests gently on your cheek, his thumb brushing against your jaw.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you look at him. You're so in love with him. You can't believe that this man is all yours, that he wants to be with you, that he loves you just as much as you love him. You can't believe that you found each other.

You want to say so much, want to reply to his little speech but you can't find the words to express how much you love him. So you kiss him instead.

A soft kiss, one full of love, one full of affection. One full of hope. Your lips linger on his for a few seconds before he pulls back. You're both smiling at each other.

"We should head downstairs," he whispers softly, breaking the silence again. "We don't want to be late"

You nod and you step back. He lets go of you, letting you walk out of the bathroom first.

When you walk into the living room downstairs, his family is there waiting for you two, chatting animatedly. They look up as you both enter, smiles lighting up their faces. His little niece and nephew are sitting on the couch with their mom when they see you come in. Without waiting a moment they stand up from their spot on the couch and run up to Kylian.

"Uncle Kylian! Y/N!" They squeal in unison.

He bends down and picks them up. One on each arm. He swings them around and they giggle in glee. You watch as his face lights up with a bright smile. His eyes meet yours over his niece and nephew's heads and he grins at you.

"I missed you guys so much," he whispers in their ears.

They're still laughing when they land back on their feet. He sets them down and gives each of them a kiss on the head before they turn to you. "Y/N!" They greet you with equal enthusiasm.

"My babies," you coo, bending down to pick them up. "I missed you two so much too!" You give each of them a hug. You give them each a kiss on the head before you set them back down. The second you set them back down they're on Kylian again, completely enamoured with their uncle.

"Be good for your mom and dad today," he tells them softly. "I want to see you after the presentation." His eyes light up with excitement.

"We will," they reply in unison, giggling.

He pulls away from them, giving each one another kiss on the head before he turns towards everyone else. Kylian's mother approaches you with open arms, pulling you both into a hug. You were in the shower earlier when they arrived so she hadn't seen you yet.

"Mes bébés," she said, tears shining in her eyes. “I'm so proud of you, Kylian. And you, my darling,” she adds, embracing you in turn, ”thank you for being here with us today." she coos, kissing both your cheeks.

Kylian's father pulls him into a tight hug next. He pats him on the back. "Fier de toi, mon garçon," he says, his eyes shining with pride. "

The other family members join you, each expressing their admiration and support for Kylian. His father squeezes your shoulder affectionately, his siblings exchange jokes with him to lighten the mood.

Silently without anyone noticing you sneak a picture of Kylian and his family gathered together in the living room. It's candid, raw, real. Capturing the support and love surrounding him on this monumental day. Kylian's smile is wide in the picture, the kind that radiates insumontable joy. You feel tears prick your eyes as you look down at it, happy to have frozen this moment for him.

As the final hugs are exchanged, Kylian’s agent steps forward, checking the time on his watch. "It's almost time," he announces, his voice calm but firm. "We should get going."

You all head outside, where a convoy of sleek black cars waits.

You would be riding with Kylian. Because today was also the day you would come out to the world as his girlfriend.

Even though everyone knew by now that Mbappé was off the market it was still a hush on who he was dating. At first, you guys had done it for the sake of your job. But now that you would be staying in Madrid with him, the both of you decided not to keep your identity a secret anymore. So this was technically your first appearance together. All the more reason to be nervous.

The plan was to arrive together at the stadium, walk in with him, then get separated to go to where his family would be sitting while he gave his speech.

You two slip into the car together. He pulls you into his side, his hands holding yours. You both sit there quietly for a second, the only sound being the driver's voice talking through the intercom.

He's fidgety, his eyes darting out the window to the passing buildings. You squeeze his hand gently, reminding him of your presence. He looks at you, his eyes meeting yours for the first time since the car started moving.

"Are you sure you're okay?" You ask him softly, his hand squeezing yours in reassurance.

"I'm good, trésor," he assures you. "Just excited and a little nervous."

You nod, your hand rubbing circles into his wrist. "I'm so proud of you," you tell him sincerely, your free hand reaching up to cup his cheek. He closes his eyes briefly at your touch, breathing in deeply before turning to face you fully. His lips meet yours for a brief kiss. He smiles against your lips, his hands finding their way to your waist as he pulls you into a tight hug.

The rest of the car ride is silent.

You're pulled out of your comfortable bubble when the car stops.

The stadium.

You're here.

You both sit in stunned silence for a moment, your eyes wide as you take in the sight. The stadium is already packed with thousands of screaming fans, each holding a white Real Madrid jersey with his name on the back.

Kylian is silent beside you, his eyes wide, his hands resting on his thighs. He takes a deep breath. He looks at you, his eyes locking with yours.

"Ready?" he asks softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nod, a smile on your face.

You two slip out of the car together, Kylian holding your hand tightly in his. They don't notice you at first since you're hidden behind him, out of sight, but he pulls you beside him and wraps an arm around your waist. The cheers from the crowd grow louder as the realization of who you are girlfriend sinks in.

You smile shyly, trying to hide your face in his shoulder.

He laughs, pulling you closer to him.

You both walk towards the entrance of the stadium, the screams of the fans reaching an all-time high. Kylian smiles brightly at the cameras flashing in your faces, his free hand waving at the crowd.

You both stop walking for a second, posing for pictures together. You're conscious of the cameras flashing around you, of the fans screaming his name. The whole situation is a little overwhelming but nothing you can't handle with him beside you, holding your hand.

You both pose for a few pictures, then you walk inside, the crowd quieting as you leave them behind.

You're led to a room backstage, where you'll wait with Kylian until it's time for him to go on stage. The room is buzzing with activity – staff members are rushing around, checking last-minute details, and ensuring everything is perfect.

You find a quieter corner of the room where he can take a moment to collect himself. He sits down on a plush leather chair, his eyes scanning the room but his grip on your hand never loosening. You can tell the nerves are killing him.

“Do you want some water?” you ask softly, your thumb rubbing soothing circles on his skin.

He nods, and you quickly fetch a bottle from a nearby table. When you hand it to him, he takes a long sip, then leans back, exhaling slowly. “Merci,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You sit beside him, placing your hand on his knee. “Remember, they’re all here for you. They believe in you, just like I do.”

He turns to look at you, his eyes softening. “I know. It’s just… a lot.”

You nod, understanding completely. “It’s okay to be overwhelmed. Just take it one step at a time.”

He nods, his eyes locking onto yours, drawing strength from your calm presence. The door opens, and one of the staff members steps in, clipboard in hand. “It's time miss Y/N,” he announces, waiting for you at the door.

That's your cue.

You stand up, offering Kylian your hand. He takes it, rising from the chair, his grip firm and warm. He pulls you into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around you with a strength that speaks volumes about the emotions coursing through him.

“I’ll be right there in the audience,” you whisper against his ear gently stroking his back “I’ll be cheering the loudest.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours. “Je t'aime fort,” The tone of which he says it is the most endearing you've ever heard from him. It makes your heart swell. You wish you could go with him.

“I love you too,” you reply, placing one last peck on his lips.

With a final squeeze of your hand, he releases you and you follow the man to the section reserved for his family.

As you enter the stadium, the roar of the crowd is deafening. The energy is electric, every person present filled with anticipation. You find your seat next to Kylian’s mother, who greets you with a warm smile and a comforting squeeze of your hand.

The lights dim, and the stadium falls silent. The anticipation is palpable. The lights dim slightly, and the murmurs in the stadium grow louder. The large screens display a montage of Kylian’s best moments, a tribute to his journey and accomplishments.

Then, the announcer’s voice booms through the speakers, introducing Kylian. The crowd erupts into cheers, the noise almost overwhelming.

You're crying as you watch him walk to the stage, grateful that you get to witness this moment with him, a moment he's been waiting for a long time.

Kylian steps onto the stage, his presence commanding yet humble. He looks out at the sea of faces, his gaze searching until it finds yours. You smile at him through your tears, giving him a small nod of encouragement. He smiles back, gesturing at your crying.

The jumbotron pans to your face as you laugh at his antics and everyone in the stadium realizes who you are immediately. They start cheering even louder.

The warmth of the moment envelops you as you watch Kylian take center stage. His speech is emotional thanking his fans, his teammates, and the club for believing in him. He speaks with passion and sincerity, his words resonating with everyone in the stadium. When he finishes with his "Hala Madrid", the applause is thunderous, echoing through the massive arena.

You and Fayza hold on to each other as you cry your eyes out, Kylian's words of thanks to you echoing in your ears. You both hug each other tight, both of you overwhelmed with emotion.

It's such a powerful moment one that sends shivers down your spine. The beginning of a new era. The start of your new life together with him.

-Bianca🌻

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🌻

Hello everyone,

I hope this message finds you well. I wanted to take a moment to update you all on something important regarding my request schedule. Due to the overwhelming response I've received, I am temporarily pausing the acceptance of new requests for the next couple of weeks, and potentially even longer. The reason for this is that I currently have a staggering 51 requests waiting. While I am incredibly grateful for the enthusiastic engagement, it has become clear that managing and responding to everyone is quite challenging.

As many of you are aware, I am a nursing student, and as such, my time is significantly constrained. Although I’ve had a bit more flexibility this past month thanks to a break, the reality is that school is about to start in a month, and my academic responsibilities will demand more of my attention. Consequently, I anticipate that once the school year begins, my ability to upload content will be limited, likely to once a week or as my schedule permits.

I truly wish I could dedicate myself to writing full-time and engage with all of your requests more regularly. Unfortunately, the demands of my studies make this impossible for now. I hope you can understand. 🥺

Thank you for your continued support, and I look forward to being able to engage with your requests in the near future.

With that being said I will try to post as much as I can before school starts. I will also be giving 24 hours to submit any last-minute requests😉

Have a good day/night😊

Love, Bianca🌻

Can you make one of you and Kylian the night after his presentation? He’s still on a high after his long happy day so it’s just really passionate romantic sex full of praise

Célébration

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — You and Kylian celebrate his presentation to Real Madrid in your own way

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Kylian Mbappé x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 5.8k

Warnings! NSFW! SMUT (18+), unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (m receiving), romantic sex, multiple orgasms, Kylian being a fool in love,

The heat of his breath lingered on your neck.

You were trying so hard to focus on the story that Kylian's dad was telling but you just couldn't. You could feel his fingers tracing over your thighs and up your back. You could feel him leaning in closer to you. His warm breath was washing over you and you felt like you were going to melt.

You tried to push him away. To keep him from getting too close. To keep him from getting you too worked up in front of his family.

But it was no use.

The tension could be cut with a sword. His touch, light as a feather, sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire that threatened to consume you. You bit your lip as he started placing small kisses down your neck. His lips hot against your heated skin.

Your breath hitched, and you shifted slightly, hoping to create some distance, but Kylian only took it as an invitation to pull you closer. His hand slid around your waist, a gentle but firm reminder of his presence.

You guys were currently at a restaurant that his mom had rented out to celebrate his first day at Real Madrid. The restaurant was a lavish display of wealth.

Crystal chandeliers cast a soft, golden glow over the elegantly set tables, their delicate china and polished silverware gleaming under the ambient light. The air was filled with the tantalizing aroma of gourmet dishes, but you barely noticed it, lost in the storm brewing at your side.

His whole family was in the room, engaged in cheerful conversation and clinking glasses in celebration. They seemed oblivious to the storm that raged between you and Kylian.

You knew you had to stop this. You knew you had to stop him.

But you just couldn't.

Not when he was whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Not when he was calling you beautiful and perfect and telling you how much he loved you. The words melted you. They were like a key to your soul, and you were powerless against them.

"Kylian," you whispered, keeping your eyes on Wilfried "not here." You tried to sound firm, but your voice betrayed you, coming out weak and breathy.

"I can't help it," he whispered back. His lips were still on your skin and the vibrations made your whole body shiver.

You dared a glance at him, and the intensity in his eyes took your breath away. There was a mischievous glint in them, a silent promise of more to come. His lips were tantalizingly close to your ear, and when he spoke, his voice was a low, husky whisper that sent a thrill coursing through your veins.

“Relax,” he murmured, his words a sultry caress against your ear. “No one’s watching.”

His hand slid lower, and you could feel his fingers slipping under your dress. You shivered as he stroked your bare leg.

You shook your head, trying to clear the haze, but his words echoed in your mind, and your heart raced with anticipation. You could feel the tension building, and you knew that you couldn't stop him. Not this time.

You didn't want to stop him.

You were desperate for it. For him.

For his touch, for his kisses, for his love.

The thought sent a shiver coursing through you and you leaned back into him. Your heart pounded in your chest, a wild, unrestrained rhythm.

Desperate to regain some semblance of control, you forced yourself to focus on Kylian’s dad. He was gesticulating wildly, his voice rising and falling with the excitement of his tale. You latched onto his words, trying to drown out the sensations that threatened to overwhelm you.

“…and then Kylian scored the winning goal,” his dad exclaimed, his face beaming with pride. “It was beautiful! A work of art.”

Your mind automatically turned to Kylian. To the way he’d looked on the field today. The crowd's roar, the flash of cameras, the way he moved with such grace and power. You remembered the pride swelling in your chest as he’d turned to the crowd, a triumphant smile playing on his lips, his eyes seeking yours in the sea of faces.

That moment had felt like it was just for the two of you. Like the world had melted away and all that was left was Kylian.

His smile, his eyes, his lips.

You shivered, remembering the feel of his lips against yours when he'd come off the field. His arms around you, holding you close. You remembered the way he'd looked at you. The way he'd whispered "I love you" into your ear.

You knew what it meant to him to be here. You've seen him fight for every dream he's ever had. Every goal, every trophy, every game won. Every single step he's taken on this journey. And now to be playing for the team he's always dreamed of playing for.

And you were so proud. So proud of of the way he’d carved his name into the annals of football history. Of how hard he worked.

So proud of the person he was. Proud to be his.

You leaned back into his embrace, letting your eyes drift to him, taking in the sharp jawline and the deep set eyes that shone like the sun.

He felt your gaze on him, and he turned to look at you. He was still smiling from his dad's story, but as he met your gaze, his smile faltered, and his eyes grew soft. He studied you for a moment, as if trying to read the unspoken words that danced in the depths of your eyes.

The playful mischief that had sparkled in them was replaced by something deeper, more sincere. His fingers paused their exploration, tracing delicate patterns on your skin, as though he was trying to gauge the rhythm of your pulse.

The world around you seemed to fade into a distant hum. The sounds of laughter and conversation from the gathering guests melted away, leaving just the two of you in a cocoon of intimacy.

"Thank you," he whispered. His voice was low, rough, filled with emotion. "Thank you for being here with me."

You swallowed hard, trying to process the sudden change.

His words lit your soul on fire. They were simple, yet they cut through the haze of your emotions with startling clarity. You could feel the sincerity in his tone, the raw gratitude that lay beneath his casual demeanor.

Your fingers twitched, and you placed your hand over his, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. It was a small, almost imperceptible gesture, but it conveyed volumes—everything you couldn’t quite articulate in words.

"You don’t have to thank me," you murmured, your voice barely audible over the distant clamor of the party. "I wouldn’t be anywhere else."

You felt his gaze on you, like a weight on your skin, and you could almost hear the smile in his voice. "Promise?" he asked. His fingers tightened around your hand, and you felt the pulse in his wrist quicken.

You nodded, your heart skipping a beat.

"I promise," you breathed, your words barely audible over the pounding in your chest.

The corner of his mouth curved upwards, and you saw his chest rise with a deep breath. You watched, captivated by the way his eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. The way his lips pressed together, his tongue darting out to lick them.

His eyes locked with yours, and for a moment, you felt like you were drowning. Like you were slipping beneath the waves of his love for you. His eyes were so full of warmth and love. They were so soft, so gentle.

“You’re everything to me,” he whispered, his voice almost breaking as he spoke. “You make all of this worth it.”

You tried to form words, but none came. Your heart swelled at his words, and you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You gently cupped his face in your hands, guiding him closer until your foreheads touched. His eyes fluttered closed, and you could feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours.

“I love you, Kylian Mbappé” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. “More than you know.” Your hands curled into his shirt, your fingers digging into the fabric as you held him closer.

You heard his breath hitch, then he was on you.

His lips brushed against yours in a light, gentle kiss. Everything that had once held significance—his new contract, his presentation, the adoration of millions—faded into insignificance. There was only this.

It was a tender, soft kiss, full of meaning and emotion. It was a promise, a vow, a declaration.

It was Kylian telling you that he loved you. It was him showing you that he needed you. That he couldn’t imagine his life without you.

Kylian pulled back, his breath ragged and labored. He opened his eyes, and you were struck by the depth of his gaze. It was as if he was trying to convey a million different emotions to you, trying to show you that he meant every word.

You let your eyes drift closed, allowing the moment to wash over you.

When you opened them again, you noticed that Kylian’s mom was watching the two of you, her face soft with a knowing smile.

You smiled back at her and she gave you a slight nod before turning back to talking to Ethan.

You looked back at Kylian, who was still watching you. His gaze was still soft, and his eyes still shone with love for you.

You wanted him. You wanted to give him all of your love and affection. You wanted him to know that you were his. Always.

You wanted to feel his hands on your skin, his lips on your neck, his arms around you. You wanted him inside of you, taking you. You wanted to hear him tell you that he loved you, that you were his. That he needed you. You felt the need growing inside of you. Building up to a crescendo.

Kylian could see it in your eyes. He knew exactly what you were thinking, and he wanted it too.

He wanted to pull you into his lap and take you right then and there. He wanted to lift your skirt and pull your panties to the side. He wanted to sink into you, to feel your warmth. He wanted to feel your walls clenching around him, to hear your breath hitch as he filled you. He wanted to feel your lips on his skin, your nails digging into his arms. He wanted to feel your breasts against him, to feel your nipples hardening under his touch.

He wanted all of you.

You both sat there, watching each other, trying to decide what to do. You knew you needed to leave. To take him home. To give him the best night of his life. He nodded as if he knew what you were thinking.

Without a word, you both stood up, leaving your napkins on the table. You both walked over to Kylian’s mom, who looked up at you as you approached.

“Maman,” Kylian said “On va rentrer à la maison.”

Fayza paused, her eyes flickering over both of you with concern. Wondering why you were leaving so early. “Déja?” she asked, voice tinged with worry.

You nodded quickly, forcing a smile. “Yes, sorry, we're just… really tired.”

Kylian’s lips brushed against your ear again, his chuckle low and wicked. “Liar,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin.

You shot him a warning look, but it was half-hearted at best. You could barely keep from smiling at the slight smirk on his lips. You felt like children that got away with taking cookies from the cookie jar.

His mom looked at you both, her eyes flicking back and forth between you two before realization kicked in.

She gave you a knowing look before looking back at her son with a smirk. “You must have had quite the day,” she teased, “but I guess you deserve it. Go, go. I’m sure the two of you want some privacy.” She winked at the two of you before patting Kylian on the arm. “Enjoy your night, mon amour.” She stood up to give Kylian a hug before giving you a hug as well. “Be safe,” she said, her voice low and playful.

You thanked her mortified and you and Kylian walked away.“We should say goodnight to your family,” you told him, your voice soft.

Kylian nodded and placed a hand on your back, guiding you through the room. He stopped every now and then to hug his family and say goodbye, but he never left your side.

You step out of the restaurant, feeling the cool air hit your flushed skin. You pull in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the city.

It's a mix of smog and people, of food and trash. Of Madrid. Of your new home.

Kylian looks over at you, a smile playing on his lips. "Ready?" He asks, his voice soft.

You nod and he steps forward to open the car door for you. He waits for you to sit before closing the door and going around to the driver's side. As soon as he got into the car, he reached over and took your hand. He brought it to his mouth, kissing your palm.

His fingers traced over your wrist, sending tingles down your spine.

"You've been driving me crazy all night," he whispered, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. "Now I'm gonna take you home and fuck you all night. And you're going to love every second of it." He promised, his voice deep and husky. His eyes were full of desire. Full of need.

Your breath hitched at his tone. At the promise of what he was going to do to you tonight. You feel yourself growing wetter, your panties sticking to your skin.

His hand slipped down, his fingers brushing over the fabric of your dress. He tugged it up, exposing your skin to the air. His fingers slipped under, rubbing over your panties feeling how damp they are. He groaned when he felt how wet you were for him. How much you wanted him.

His thumb circled around your clothed clit, making you moan. He leans over and gives your neck a quick kiss, his tongue sliding over your skin.

He pulls away before you can enjoy his touch. You whimpered at the loss of contact. He chuckled as he put the car in drive.

He pulled out of the parking lot and into the streets of Madrid.

The city lights of the festive city flickered past the windows, painting fleeting golden strokes across the interior.

Kylian’s gaze remained on the road, but his hands remained on your thigh, rubbing the skin he had access to. His touch sent heat through your body, warming you to your core. You squirmed under his touch, the fabric of your panties chafing against your clit.

You wanted him inside you now.

When the car finally came to a stop outside your apartment, you practically jumped out the car making Kylian chuckle at your obvious desperation.

The elevator ride up to your floor was torturous. Kylian stood close behind you, his breath warm against your neck. His arms were wrapped around your waist, body pressed against yours. His cock was hard, pushing into your back as he leaned in and nipped at your neck. You shivered as he breathed hotly against your skin, making you melt in his arms.

"Kylian, please." You whimpered, arching into his touch. He leaned back slightly and smirked down at you.

"I'm gonna fuck you so good, baby." The words were a seductive promise, his voice low and husky.

You barely had time to process his words before you were at your door. Your fingers fumbled with the keys, your hands trembling slightly. You heard Kylian laugh behind you, his chest vibrating against your back. You felt his hands cover yours as he took the keys from you. He quickly unlocked the door and pulled you inside.

As soon as the door closed, he had you against the wall. His mouth was on yours, devouring your lips. He kissed you like you were air and he was drowning. Like he needed this kiss to survive. His lips were hot against yours, his tongue sliding into your mouth and tangling with yours.

His fingers gripped the nape of your neck, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. He licked into your mouth, sucking on your tongue. Making you moan into the kiss. He was greedy and desperate and you matched him kiss for kiss, stroke for stroke.

Without breaking the kiss, his hands slid under your ass, lifting you off the ground and he began to lead you towards the bedroom. You wrapped your legs around him, clinging to him as he carried you.

He stopped in the middle of the room and slowly lowered you down. He pressed another kiss to your mouth, pulling back when he was sure you were steady. Kylian pulled away from the kiss, panting heavily. You felt his hot breath against your face. His eyes were wild, burning with hunger.

He pulled back a little bit to look down at you. He licked his lips, his eyes raking over your clothed body. His fingers hooked around the straps of your dress, pulling them down your arms. He pushed the fabric down, revealing your nudity to him. He groaned at the sight, his eyes drinking you in.

"You're so fucking gorgeous," he whispered, his voice full of reverence. His fingers trailed down your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "And all mine."

You stood in front of him, completely naked. His eyes devoured every inch of you. He drank in your body like you were a glass of cool water on a hot summer day. His eyes were full of need. Of want.

He moved forward, his chest pressing against yours. He cupped your face between his hands and kissed you, his lips gentle against yours. His tongue traced over your lips, asking for permission to enter. You opened your mouth and he slipped inside. This kiss was sweet and slow.

His hands slid down your body, pulling you closer to him by your hips. You felt his hard cock press against your stomach through his clothes.

You moaned into his mouth and he smiled against your lips.

"Kylian, please," you gasped out when he pulled away for a breath. "I need you inside me."

He nodded and turned you around to face the bed pushing you gently onto it. He leaned over you, his body pressing against yours. You could feel the fabric of his clothes brush against your naked skin. You moaned at the sensation.

He ran a hand up your torso and over the curve of your breast. His other hand slid between your legs, cupping your pussy.

"You're so fucking wet," he groaned out, his fingers teasing over your lips. You whined, your pussy clenching around nothing. "Is this all for me?"

"Always." You panted out, arching into his touch.

He pushed two fingers inside you. His other hand found your nipple, pinching it roughly. You gasped out a moan, your body jerking on the bed.

His fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot. Your walls clenched around him, your eyes rolling back in your head. Your whole body was on fire. His name tumbled from your lips like a prayer, a plea.

You were already so close. You were so worked up from the dinner that it wouldn't take long for you to cum. You were aching to orgasm.

Kylian leaned over and nipped at your neck as he fucked you with his fingers. Your thighs shook as his fingers sped up. You moaned out, your body trembling.

"I'm gonna make you cum so hard, baby."

He said the words against your neck, his hot breath sending tingles through your body. His fingers sped up, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing circles into your sensitive skin. His teeth sank into your skin, biting down lightly.

You felt the orgasm build in your belly. Your body shook under his touch, your head falling back against the pillow. He took that moment to claim your mouth in a kiss, his tongue sliding in and swallowing your moan.

You came on a cry, your body shaking under his touch. You felt the warmth spread through you like a fire. Your body convulsed around his fingers, milking the orgasm from you. He didn't stop his movements until you were done. Until your body was boneless and exhausted.

He pulled back, his fingers slipping from you. He brought them to his mouth, licking your taste off them. His eyes burned with hunger as he looked at you.

"You taste so good, baby." He said, his voice deep. His hands quickly undid his belt and he pulled his pants down his thighs.

He pulled his cock out, stroking himself while he looked at you. You licked your lips, watching him touch himself. His fingers were wrapped around the base of his cock, his fist pumping up and down the length.

"Kylian," you breathed out, reaching for him. He smirked, his eyes dark with lust. "Want you in my mouth." He groaned at your words, his hand slowing.

"Yeah? Want to suck my cock? Wanna be my good girl?"

You nodded, your face burning at his words as you got up from the bed and got on your knees for him. You licked your lips again looking up at him and he chuckled, the sound deep in his throat.

"Go ahead baby, show me how you suck my cock."

You sat up, your mouth watering at the sight of him. Thick, long. He walked closer to you, pressing the tip of his cock against your lips. You licked the head, tasting the precum that leaked from him. He tasted like soap and skin. Like Kylian.

His hips jerked at the sensation, a groan slipping from his lips. His hand curled in your hair and he tugged your head back. He looked down at you with wild eyes, his breathing heavy. His lip was bitten raw.

"You're so fucking gorgeous." He breathed out, his hand running through your hair.

He leaned forward and pushed his cock into your mouth. His eyes never left yours as he did, his pupils blown out. Your mouth was stretched wide around him, your tongue licking at the underside. He held himself in your mouth for a moment, letting you adjust to his size. You swirled your tongue over the head of his cock, making him groan out.

He pulled out of your mouth and thrust back in, setting a rhythm. Your lips were tight around him, your tongue licking over his length. He moaned out, his fingers tightening in your hair. Your hands went to his thighs, feeling his muscles clench under your fingers.

"Fuck baby," he panted out. "You're so fucking good at this." He moaned out.

His hand slid around your jaw and tipped your head back. You looked up at him through your lashes as he fucked your face. His eyes burned into your, pouring out all his love.

"You're so beautiful, baby. So gorgeous." He whispered over the sound of you chocking on his cock. "Love you."

The words were barely audible from where you were but they made your heart flutter in your chest. You hummed around him, trying to tell him you loved him too.

His cock pulsed inside you and you knew he was close. He sped up his pace, fucking your mouth harder. Your throat worked around him, your tongue licking at his length.

He groaned, his thighs tensing. He was getting close, his balls drawing up tight to his body. You sucked him harder, swirling your tongue over the head and licking at the tip.

His hand tightened in your hair and he pushed into your mouth one last time before cumming. You swallowed him down, moaning around him. His hand fell to the bed as he shook through his orgasm, his cock still twitching in your mouth.

He pulled out of you, his cock leaving you with a pop, his breathing harsh. He looked down at you, his eyes dark with need. With hunger.

He leaned down and kissed you, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You tasted him on your lips and swallowed his taste down.

He pulled back, his lips swollen from your kiss. His eyes were still dark with want.

"You look so fucking good on your knees for me," he whispered. "So beautiful."

You blushed under his praise, looking away.

He leaned back over, pulling you up to stand in front of him. His fingers traced over your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Bed," he commanded, his voice soft. You nodded and he pushed you backwards onto the mattress. He followed you down, pressing between your legs. He leaned up over you, bracing his arms on either side of your head.

"Je t'aime tellement." He said, his voice soft. His eyes burned into you, looking deep into your soul. "Mon ange," He whispered, his lips brushing over yours.

He kissed you softly, his lips gentle against yours. You felt like you were floating. Like you were in the clouds and nothing could touch you.

He pulled back, looking down at you. His eyes were soft, full of love and adoration. He leaned down and gave your a quick kiss, his hands sliding under your back. He lifted you up, pressing you closer to him.

"I need you, baby. Need you so badly."

His hands ran down your back, cupping your ass. He lifted your legs, hooking them around his waist.

He settled between your legs, his hard cock pressing against your slit. You moaned, your eyes fluttering closed. You were still sensitive from earlier but you wanted him inside you so badly.

"Kylian," you whined, your voice needy.

"Yeah baby," he groaned out, his hips jerking. "gonna give it to you."

His hand slid between your legs, his fingers teasing over your pussy. His thumb pressed against your clit, making you cry out. His other hand gripped your thigh, his fingers digging into your skin.

His lips pressed against your neck, sucking the skin between his teeth. His teeth sank into your skin and you cried out, your head falling back against the pillow.

"Kylian, please," you gasped out, your voice needy. "Please, please."

"Yeah, baby," he groaned out, his lips traveling to your ear. "Please what?"

You whimpered, your hips jerking under him. Your head felt fuzzy, the sounds around turning muffled. You were high on the pleasure he was giving you. "Please." You whined out, voice breathy, full of need.

He laughed against your neck, finally taking pity on you. Looking down he lined his cock up with your entrance, pushing into you slowly never taking his eyes away from the sight of the two of you becoming one.

You gasped out at the sensation, your walls clenching around him. His hips stilled, waiting for you to adjust to his size. His head dropped into the crook of your neck, the feeling of your tight gummy walls squeezing around him too good. "Fuck," he moaned out. "Feels so good, baby. So tight."

You whined out, your hands trailing down his back. You dug your nails into his skin, making him shiver. His hips finally moved, pulling out of you before sliding back in.

A groan escaped your lips at the movement, your hands moving to grip his shoulders. His lips moved to yours, kissing you deeply. His tongue slid between your lips, stroking over yours.

His hips started moving faster, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you that only he could reach. Your hips jerked up, meeting him thrust for thrust.

"Kylian," you whined out, your voice needy. "Feels so good."

"Yeah, baby," he groaned out, his voice deep. "Moan for me. Tell me how good I'm making you feel."

His hand gripped your thigh, pulling your leg up higher. His eyes were full of adoration as he looked down at you. He thrust into you harder, his cock sliding deeper. You gasped out at the feeling, throat raw and sore from having him in your mouth earlier.

He settled his weight against yours and leaned forward, his mouth brushing over yours.

"You feel so good," he said, his voice breathy. "So wet and tight around me."

The sound of your wet pussy taking him echoed through the room, the sounds making you blush.

You whined out as he continued to pump into you. He kissed you again, his lips soft against yours. You could taste yourself on his tongue, your flavor filling your mouth.

His hips started to jerk, his thrusts becoming less steady. You wrapped your legs tighter around him, pulling him in deeper.

Your hands trailed down his back, your nails digging into his skin. You were getting close, his cock hitting your G-spot every time. Your walls clenched around him, milking him. His hips stuttered against you, his groan deep in your ear.

"Close," you gasped out, your voice needy. "I'm so close, Kylian."

He nodded, his eyes locked on yours. His hips moved faster, drilling you into the sheets under you. Your walls clenched around him, your legs jerking. "Me too baby," he moaned out, his lips brushing over yours. "Gonna come for me?"

His hand moved between your legs, his fingers finding your clit. His thumb rubbed over your clit as he bottomed out inside you. Your head fell back, a scream of his name leaving your lips. Your pussy spasmed around his cock, your walls squeezing tight. Your legs shook, your hands digging into his shoulders.

"Fuck," he grunted out, his cock pulsing inside you. "come with me, baby." He commanded, his voice deep in your ear.

You moaned out, your pussy clenching tighter. Your hips jerked, your hands gripping his shoulders. You felt yourself climbing higher and higher, your body heating up. You felt yourself on the edge of orgasm, your toes curling as it washed over you. You cried out, your walls clenching around him. You felt his hips stutter before he came inside you. His cum filling you up.

His hips moved slowly, dragging out the pleasure. Finally, he stilled, his head dropping to your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He sucked the skin between his teeth, leaving a bruise on your skin. You both lay there for a few moments, enjoying the feeling of being joined together. You let your hand trail down his arm, feeling goosebumps break out over his skin

"Mmm," he hummed out. "Good baby. Such a good girl."

You moaned out, your hands sliding up his back. You pulled him back, looking up at him. "I love you Kylian," you said, your voice soft. "Love you so much."

"I love you too baby," he said, his voice soft. "Thank you for being mine." He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss against your lips. His eyes were soft, full of love and adoration.

You smiled up at him, your fingers tracing over his face. His hands slid down your arms, holding you to him. He rolled to the side, pulling you into his arms. You snuggled in close to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. His arms held you tight, keeping you close to him.

His hand trailed down your arm, his lips pressed against your forehead. "I'm so lucky to have you," he said, his voice soft. "Could never imagine being with anyone else."

You smiled, "I'm so proud of you," you said, your voice soft. "You gently brushed a drop of sweat away from his forehead, your fingers lingering on his cheek. "You've achieved so much, and you still remain the sweetest, most humble person I know. I'm so proud of the man you are."

Kylian's eyes glistened with emotion as he gazed down at you. "It's because of you," he murmured, his voice thick with sincerity. "Because of the support you give me. Every step of the way, it's been you."

You felt a warm blush creeping up your cheeks, your eyes welling up with tears. "I just want you to be happy," you whispered, leaning in to press your lips against his in a tender kiss. "To see you succeed, to see you smile—that's all I need."

Kylian's grip tightened around you, his heartbeat a steady rhythm beneath your ear. "Your happiness is my priority too," he whispered, his breath warm against your temple. "Every goal I score, every match I play, it's all for you."

You nestled closer, the warmth of his body enveloping you. The room was quiet, the only sounds being the soft rustle of sheets and the distant hum of Madridian life outside.

Kylian's fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "Do you remember our first date?" he asked suddenly, a hint of amusement in his voice. "The one where I spilled wine all over your dress?"

You laughed softly, the memory vivid in your mind. "How could I forget? I thought you were going to faint from embarrassment."

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "I was so nervous. I wanted everything to be perfect."

"It was perfect," you assured him, lifting your head to meet his gaze. "Not because of what happened, but because I was with you."

His eyes softened, the corners crinkling with a smile. "You always know just what to say," he murmured, his voice filled with affection. "You make everything better."

You reached up, cupping his cheek in your hand. "And you make me feel like the luckiest girl in the world," you replied, your voice trembling with emotion. "Every day with you is a gift."

Kylian leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, passionate kiss. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble of love and contentment.

As you pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, your breaths mingling. "Let's stay like this forever," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Just you and me."

"Okay," he agreed, his voice a solemn promise. "Always."

You smiled, your eyes drifting closed. You felt his lips press against your forehead. "Goodnight baby," he whispered out, his voice soft.

"Goodnight Kylian," you whispered back, your voice soft.

You both fell asleep, wrapped in each other's arms. Two humans in love, ready to face whatever the future held for you in this festive city of Madrid.

-Bianca🌻

Omgggg I’d love something like angst turned into fluff where Kylian and reader breakup for a while then get back together and before they move to Madrid, she finds out she’s pregnant💗

Rekindled

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — You and Kylian have been broken up for months. Then you get a call from Kylian begging for you to meet him.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Kylian Mbappé x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 3.3k

Warnings! ANGST! They love each other but it hurts, FLUFF

You thought you were over it—over him.

The late-night conversations that lingered like a warm breeze on a summer night, the way his laughter could turn your worst day into something bearable, even the stupid inside jokes that only the two of you found funny.

You told yourself it was just nostalgia, a ghost of what was, not what is.

It had been three months since you and Kylian had parted ways. The breakup was a storm you never saw coming—a whirlwind of emotions, misunderstandings, and words left unsaid. The pain had been unbearable, and even now, the memory of it made your chest tighten.

You had loved him with everything you had, and the loss of him had left a void in your life that nothing seemed to fill.

But life moved on, as it always does. You threw yourself into work, into friends, into anything that could distract you from the ache of his absence. And slowly, ever so slowly, the wound began to heal.

You convinced yourself that you were okay, that you didn’t need him, that you could be happy without him.

You had moved on, or at least that’s what you thought.

Then, out of the blue, he called.

He wanted to talk. To see you. Said he missed you. There was something in his voice—an urgency, a sincerity—that you couldn’t ignore. He was begging, and you had never heard that before. Never heard him so desperate, so broken.

So against your better judgment, you agreed to meet him at the café where you’d had your first date. A place you had avoided for months, afraid that the memories would be too painful.

You chose it. So you couldn't complain.

A small part of you wanted closure where it all started. For him to give you back your heart where he had first stolen it.

You remembered the way he held your hand, the way he looked at you as if you were the only girl in the world, the way he made you laugh.

You took a seat in the same corner you’d occupied that night, waiting for him to show up.

He was late—something he never used to be—but you didn’t mind. You used the time to go over the reasons you were here, the things you wanted to say to him, the things you hoped he’d say to you.

Now, as you waited for him to arrive, doubt gnawed at you. What was the point of reopening old wounds? What could he possibly say that would change anything? Why now?

The sound of the bells ringing pulled you from your thoughts. You looked up, and there he was—Kylian, standing in the doorway, his eyes searching the cafe until they found you.

He walked in, his eyes red. He looked the same, but different. There was a vulnerability in his expression that wasn’t there before—something deeper, more serious.

He walked over to you, his movements measured, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was heavy with the weight of everything that had been left unresolved.

The way he was looking at you, that mix of surprise and something else you couldn’t quite place—was it regret? Or maybe it was just the reflection of your own feelings, mirrored back at you.

You stood there, frozen, as the world around you seemed to blur and fade. It was like someone hit pause on everything except for the two of you. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat a reminder of the emotions you’d spent months convincing yourself you no longer felt.

“Hi,” he finally said, his voice soft, almost hesitant.

“Hi,” you replied, barely above a whisper.

He took a seat across from you, his gaze never leaving yours. “Thank you for coming.”

You nodded, unsure of what to say, unsure of what you were even feeling. The emotions inside you were jumbled up, a mess of happiness and sadness, longing and anger.

He started to say something, but you couldn’t hear him over the roaring in your ears. Your brain screamed at you to walk away, to leave before you got sucked back in.

But your feet refused to move, rooted to the spot as if tethered by an invisible string that connected you to him, no matter how much you tried to sever it.

He reached out, placing his hand on top of yours pulling you out of the trance you were in. The touch sent a rush of electricity through your body, and your breath caught in your throat.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, his voice full of emotion as he tried to give you a small smile. One that was so strained it looked like a grimace. He leaned in, his eyes holding yours.

You hadn’t expected that. Not now, when you’d finally begun to heal. Hadn’t expected him to look so broken. The same hazel eyes that used to light up your day now looked dull, the smile that you loved now barely existing on his lips.

He looked lost. And for a moment, your heart hurt for him. You had thought he had moved on, but now you wondered if he was okay. If he was truly happy.

“Kylian,” you said, your voice shaking as you struggled to find the right words. “We can’t do this-”

“Please, just let me say this,” he interrupted, leaning forward, his expression earnest. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t even deserve it. But I have to say this, for my sake as well as yours.” He took a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. “I'm so sorry. For walking away when I should have fought for you. For us. I regret every word, every second I wasted. Every stupid thing I did to make you hate me.” He stopped, taking another deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling with the motion.

“I thought I was okay without you,” he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Thought I could just move on and be fine. But every day without you is worse than the one before. I-” He paused, his eyes burning with an intensity you’d never seen. “I need you, [Y/n]. I can’t live without you. I know I don’t deserve a second chance, but I'm begging you to give me one anyway. Please, baby, please. I miss you.”

Tears pooled in your eyes as your heart broke all over again. His words echoed in your mind, replaying over and over until it became a mantra. He needed you.

Did he?

After it's been three whole months since you've even seen each other. Since you've talked. You wonder why he wants to do this now. After all this time. So you ask.

“Why now, Kylian? Why after all this time?” You tried to keep your voice from shaking. But it was too late.

“Because I couldn’t keep lying to myself,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “You're the love of my life Y/N. Tu es mon trésor le plus précieux. I can't live without you, bébé.”

Every word was a punch to the gut, making it hard to breathe.

You looked at him, searching his face for any sign of doubt or hesitation, but all you saw was sincerity. It was the truth, raw and unfiltered.

And you didn't know how to handle it.

Noticing your hesitation, his face fell. “I’m moving to Madrid,” he continued, his tone filled with both hope and fear. “I want you to come with me. I want to start over, to build a life together. But I can’t do it without you.”

His words hung in the air between you, the promise of a new beginning. Could you really do it? Leave everything behind and start fresh? With him?

You didn’t know what to say, didn’t know if you were ready to forgive him. To give him another chance. But you did know that the love you had for him hadn’t disappeared, not really. It was still there, deep down in your heart, waiting to resurface.

Just as you were about to tell him all of this, your phone buzzed in your pocket, making you jump,breaking the spell that had been cast over the two of you. You pulled it out, looking at the screen as a notification popped up.

As you looked at the screen, your breath caught in your throat.

It was an appointment reminder—the one you had been avoiding, the one you had hoped was just a mistake.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his brow furrowing as he watched you. “What happened? Is everything okay?” Kylian asked, concern evident in his voice.

You hesitated, unsure if you should tell him.

You took a deep breath and opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. You had no idea how to explain, or even if you should.

The phone buzzed again, reminding you that you were running late.

You stood, glancing at Kylian. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

Kylian frowned, his eyes darting to the screen of your phone before returning to yours. “Y/N, what’s wrong? Did I say something? I-” he stopped as you shook your head. “No. You didn’t do anything wrong, it’s just—” you trailed off, unsure of what to say.

He rose to his feet, his eyes searching yours. “Let me come with you, please, whatever it is, let me be there for you,” he pleaded, his voice full of concern and desperation. He had never seen you look so distress and knew immediatly that whatever it was that was bothering you, he was ready to face it with you. Fight it for you.

You shook your head, feeling the walls closing in on you. This wasn’t how today was supposed to go. You were supposed to get closure, maybe find some peace. Instead, you felt more tangled up than ever, the strings of your past pulling you in every direction.

Kylian grabbed your wrist, his grip light. “I’m not going to let you run from me, Y/N. Not this time. I love you. Please don’t shut me out again,” he whispered, his voice cracking as his eyes searched yours for something—anything—to hold onto.

The weight of his gaze was unbearable. You wanted to say yes, to let him be there, to tell him that you loved him too. But the words stuck in your throat.

“Please,” he pleaded, his grip tightening, his eyes burning with an intensity you’d never seen. “Please let me help.”

“Okay,” you agreed, your voice barely above a whisper. The word felt like a weight on your tongue, as if the decision to say it had already changed the course of your life. It will.

He nodded, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he pulled you into a hug.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his lips pressed against the top of your head as his arms tightened around you.

“Let’s go,” you said, breaking the embrace.

Kylian nodded, his eyes searching yours. “Where are we going?”

You glanced at your phone, the reminder burning into your brain. “The hospital,” you said, tucking your phone into your pocket.

****

The drive was silent, neither of you sure what to say.

Kylian’s hand reached out, his fingers brushing against the back of your hand. You didn’t pull away, and instead allowed him to thread his fingers through yours, the familiar warmth of his touch settling into your bones.

He squeezed your hand, his thumb running over the top of your knuckles. It was a small gesture, but it was enough to ease the tension in the air. Enough to let you breathe a little easier.

When you arrived at the hospital, Kylian followed you into the waiting room, his presence steady at your side. You checked in, and the nurse handed you a cup for a sample.

You stood, Kylian’s hand still wrapped around yours. “I need to go to the bathroom,” you told him, pointing to the door.

He nodded, his face serious. “I’ll be right here when you get back.” He tried to keep a brave face but inside he was panicking. Why were you at the hospital?

He knows how much you despise hospitals, so whatever brought you here must be serious. A bitter memory surfaces—he recalls the time you had a fever of 103 and still stubbornly refused to go. Whatever this is, it’s grave enough to drag you to the place you hate most in the world.

Were you sick?

The thought alone made him want to cry. He couldn't lose you. Not again. Not when he still hadn't gotten the chance to put that ring on your finger. The one he bought four months ago, a few weeks before your breakup.

You headed down the hall, your heart pounding in your chest. The silence in the hospital was almost deafening, as if you were the only person there.

As you passed a window, you stopped, looking at your reflection. You looked tired, worn out. And scared.

You were scared.

This was it. The moment of truth. The one thing you had been avoiding. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts.

You had to do this.

You pushed into the bathroom, taking a seat on the toilet, and peeing into the cup.

Your hands were shaking as you walked out, the cup clutched tightly in one hand.

Kylian was standing by the nurses' station, his phone in his hand as he texted. He looked up as you walked in, his eyes searching yours. “All good?” he asked, his brow furrowing as he noticed the pee in the cup.

You nodded, handing the cup over to the nurse before walking over to him. “Yeah, it’s fine,” you lied, trying to sound confident.

Kylian frowned, his eyes narrowing. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice dropping low.

You shrugged, looking away. “Yeah,” you said, the word sticking in your throat. “I’m just-" Before you could say anything else , the nurse called your name telling you that the doctor was ready to see you.

You froze, panic seizing your lungs. “Come this way,” she said, gesturing for the both of you to follow her.

She led you down the hall, stopping at a room on the right. She gestured for you to enter. “Have a seat and the doctor will be right in,” she said before disappearing back down the hall.

You sat down, Kylian taking a seat next to you.

Neither of you spoke, the tension between you thick. You looked at him, and his eyes were filled with questions. Ones he didn’t have the courage to ask.

Your mind was racing, a thousand scenarios playing in your head. None of them good.

The door opened a few minutes later, and a man walked in, his white coat billowing behind him. “Good morning,” he said, his smile friendly. “I'm Doctor Frenette.”

Kylian and you both greeted him, the words sounding hollow.

He pulled up a chair, taking a seat across from you. “Miss [Y/n], you're here because of the test you took last week, correct?” he asked, looking at your file.

You nodded, your mouth dry.

Kylian shifted beside you, his hand reaching out and finding yours. “Well, I'm glad to report that it was indeed positive. The sample you just gave us has been tested and confirms the one you took at home. Congratulations!” Dr. Frenette said, smiling at you.

The words hit you like a ton of bricks, stealing your breath. Positive?

You looked at Kylian, who was staring at you. “Positive for what?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “What’s going on, Y/N?”

You felt your heart stop as he turned to the doctor, his eyes searching the other man's face for answers.

Dr. Frenette's smile was still plastered on his face. “Congratulations, Miss [Y/n], you’re pregnant.”

You heard Kylian’s breath catch, and saw the shock written on his face.

Pregnant.

The word echoed in your mind as your world tilted sideways. Pregnant? Was that possible?

It's been months since you had done anything with Kylian. It's the main reason why you refused to believe the home pregnancy test after all. Surely you would notice by now if something was up. Right? It is your body after all. You're supposed to know.

And yet you didn't.

The doctor started talking, telling you something about ultrasounds, appointments, and prenatal vitamins, but you couldn’t focus on what he was saying. All you could hear was Kylian's ragged breaths in your ear. All you could see was him, his eyes fixed on yours as the news sunk in.

You watched as his face changed, the shock turning into something else—something you hadn’t seen before.

He looked… happy.

You felt your own breath catch as he squeezed your hand, a grin stretching across his face. His eyes met yours, and you saw the tears pooling in his eyes. From the corner of your eye, you see Dr. Frenette leave to give you some privacy.

“Pregnant,” he whispered, the word barely audible. His voice was filled with awe, and it shook with emotion. You stared at him, still trying to process the reality of it. Pregnant. The word felt foreign, like it didn’t belong to you. But the look on Kylian’s face, that raw, unfiltered joy—it made the impossible seem real.

Kylian's hand tightened around yours, anchoring you to the moment. “We’re going to have a baby,” he whispered, his voice trembling as if saying it aloud would make it vanish. “Can you believe it? We’re going to be parents.”

You blinked, the room spinning as you tried to steady yourself. Parents. The word sent a wave of fear crashing over you, mingling with the joy in Kylian’s eyes. This wasn’t how you imagined your life would turn out—not here, not now. Not with everything so uncertain between you two.

“Kylian, I—” you started, but your voice faltered. How could you explain the chaos in your heart, the mixture of fear and hope that tangled together, pulling you in different directions?

But he seemed to understand. He always did. His smile softened, and he leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “We’ll figure it out. Together. I’m not going anywhere this time, Y/N. I’m here, and I’m not letting you do this alone.”

The sincerity in his voice, the sheer determination—it melted something inside you. Tears welled up, and you let them fall, not even bothering to wipe them away. Kylian reached up, his thumb brushing away a tear from your cheek as he cupped your face in his hands.

“You’re going to be an amazing mom,” he said, his voice full of conviction. “And I’m going to be there every step of the way, I promise.”

His words wrapped around you like a lifeline, grounding you in the storm of emotions. You wanted to believe him, wanted to let go of the doubts and fears that clung to you. But a small voice in the back of your mind kept reminding you of the hurt, of the past mistakes, of the possibility that things might not work out.

But as you looked into Kylian’s eyes, saw the hope, the love, and the unwavering support, you felt a flicker of that same hope ignite within you. Maybe, just maybe, this was your chance to start over. To build something new, something stronger, together.

You took a deep breath, nodding as you placed your hand over his on your cheek. “Okay,” you whispered, the word carrying the weight of your fears and the promise of your future. “We’ll do this together.”

Kylian’s smile widened, and he pulled you into a hug, holding you close as if he’d never let go. And for the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

-Bianca🌻

Hi everyone!

I’ve recently taken a big step in my creative journey by launching a Patreon account, and I’m beyond excited to share what this means for my writing. While I’ll still be active on Tumblr, continuing to post the stories and content you’ve come to know and love, Patreon is where I’ll be exploring new territories. It’s a place where I can dive deeper into the ideas swirling in my mind, stories that don’t quite fit into the Tumblr landscape but are just as close to my heart.

This platform is more than just a creative outlet for me; it’s an opportunity to bring you into my world in a way I haven’t been able to before. On Patreon, I’ll be sharing the raw, unfiltered thoughts that drive my passion for storytelling, giving you a glimpse into the process behind the stories. It’s also a way for me to sustain myself as I continue my studies, balancing the demands of school with my love for writing.

Your support on Patreon means the world to me, and I can’t wait to see where this journey takes us!

hello everyone, just wanted to write to say I just made my first patreon post. I hope you guys will check it out. And to also tell you to keep an eye out for a post tonight 😉

Trophy Girl

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･pairing: kylian mbappé x reader

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･synopsis: two tales of a trophy girl

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･cw: none. domestic fluff

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･final notes: im a football babe, fulfilling my dreams of being a footballer’s gf

Mon Dieu, elle est tellement belle. (My God, she is so beautiful.)

From the foot of his king-sized bed, where Kylian lay, stood (name). Her silhouette, almost god-like, stood meters from the large mirror pressed against his bedroom wall, a brush in her hand. Its pink bristles scored through her locks, plucking its full curls whilst she watched it bounce back into place.

Flooded with yearning, Kylian shuffled above his sheets, his phone tumbling from his chest. He scooted towards the edge of the bed till his feet were planted on the floor, his hurried ruckus failing to catch the attention of (name).

He extended his arms and tucked himself behind (name), pulling her lower half into him. He curled his arm around her hips and pressed the palm of his hands against her stomach, his cheek pushed against her back.

Through the reflection of his bedroom mirror, (name) froze. Her gaze shifted from her hair to her boyfriend curled by her hip. She smiled softly, dropping her hand from her hair to the back of his head.

She cupped the base of his head, her acrylic nails soothing through his fade.

Kylian glanced up at (name) with a gaze that twinkled with love, his nose nuzzled into her hip as inhaled her delectable scent, bergamot and praline.

Under the roar of Paris, Kylian strode with pride and relief through the pitch. Sweat beaded across his forehead, soiling his football shirt as he blew out a heavy breath, his hands on his hips.

Stood amongst the rows and rows of fans, (name) beamed. She bounced on the heels of her shoes and gripped her phone tightly. Her eyes scored across the pitch, squinting, in search of Kylian.

Kylian clapped to the crowds above, a tired smile hooked to his face as he paced by his teammates, sharing congratulatory hugs and handshakes. The tremor of his heart still resounded through his head.

“Kylian!”

Turning sharply, Kylian caught a glimpse of (name). She hunched over the barriers, alongside security, waving gleefully. She bounced on her feet, the glimmer in her gentle eyes called him.

She raised her arms, her free hand wiggling anxiously as he jogged towards her.

Cupping his cheeks between the palm of her hands, (name) grinned widely. “Tu as gagné!” (You won!)

Kylian chuffed, playfully rolling his eyes. “Bien sûr.” (Of course.)

He wrapped his arms around (name) and lifted her from behind the barriers. Tucking her legs, (name) stilled as Kylian heaved her over the barrier and gently planted her onto the pitch.

(name) cackled maniacally, squirming from the spot where she stood, and swarmed her arms around Kylian’s shoulders, her fingers tenderly caressing the back of his neck.

Kylian beamed affectionately at his girlfriend, watching closely as her body exploded with jubilation. She hopped avidly, her tender bounces hoisting her above Kylian’s head and landing her safely back onto the ground.

Kylian’s triumph, hidden amidst his distant yet relieved gaze, was perfectly painted by the content in (name’s) eyes and the elation that coated her obnoxious laugh and her ascent to the midnight ceiling.

tell me lies// kylian mbappe

PART 6

summary: a troubled, but gifted female footballer breaks into the male division and finds herself at odds with arrogant and straight-talking teammate, kylian mbappe.

pairing: female reader x kylian mbappe

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

part 6

Keep reading

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🌻