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New Tank Top | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

Summary: Kylian is feeling quite a bit possessive after you show off your new tank top at one of his matches.

Warnings: Filthy smut. Minors stay far away from this, I'm begging. Reader has big boobs! Posessive!Kylian, slight dom!Kylian, teasing, hickeys, titty fucking, dick sucking, nipple play, light choking, cussing, let me know if I missed anything! — English is not my first language —

Masterlist

Kylian was truly obsessed with your boobs.

Like a lot of things, having an above average rack was a blessing and a curse. When you first met Kylian, you were worried that he only wanted to get you naked, seeing that you’d catch him taking a peek at your cleavage an embarrassing amount of times.

Ultimately for him, he fell for you hard… and your boobs were just a giant perk of having you all to himself. There wasn’t any doubt he was a boob man. He considered them built in pillows and would take long naps on them, sometimes even leaving drool on your T-shirt — something you found very gross yet endearing. When that time came around, he was always eager to get the twins out, latching onto one of them while his hand gave the other the attention it deserves.

But much like you, he also considered them a blessing and a curse.

Kylian is protective by nature, always keeping a tight arm around your waist to let all the other men know you were spoken for. He saw their lowering stares and wanted to punch them in their stupid faces. The worst was scrolling through social media. He remembered when you two first announced your relationship how many comments were talking about just your boobs. Some of them were really nasty; raunchy to the point where he had to stop himself from retaliating and fighting over Instagram comments with some random fourteen year old in Cheshire.

You never felt smothered by his actions because you knew he trusted you, it was just his way of showing love. He never told you what to wear or made you feel objectified. Besides, men are pigs — and by and large, they all respect Kylian Mbappé. If they wouldn’t respect you, they sure as hell would respect your boyfriend. That was your perk.

“Kylian, no!” You giggled, voices bouncing around the walls of some random equipment room Kylian had dragged you into in Parc des Princes. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

Kylian definitely just left a hickey, feeling him sucking on the side of your neck like he wanted to draw blood. He didn't even plan this attack on you, but he took one single look at you – decked out in PSG attire, his number proudly displayed on the front of your tank top – and this random, spur of the moment make out session before a match came to fruition.

Kylian lowers his kisses, trailing down to your cleavage, leaving softer and deeper kisses there, nibbling at your skin whenever he felt like it. His fingers tugged the bottom of your shirt down, revealing more and more of what he wanted to see. The lacy fringe from your black bra made him blow out a breath involuntarily, giving your skin goosebumps with the light breeze.

“Earth to Kylian?” You slurred, trying to keep your composure as best you could seeing that he needed to walk out on the pitch in, like, five minutes. He just continues his trail, sucking yet another love bite. “Hey.” You tusk, pushing his shoulder back slightly.

Kylian stands up straight, eyes so hooded and dark that it makes you laugh. God, this man was so easy to read. “Hm?” He hums obliviously, digging his fingers into your waist.

“We don’t have time. You gotta get out there.”

Kylian just bites his lip, eyes dipping back to your impressive chest, continuing to tug at your shirt. He groans. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” He flickered his eyes up and down, but this only made his hungry lips stop for a second or two. Your gravity was too strong. It was like he forgot anything about a match when his lips landed on yours again, open and wet, taking the plump of your lower lips between his teeth with a quiet but throaty moan.

How could you resist the way he devoured you? Slow but desperate, needy like he had never seen a pair of tits before. His fingers traveled from your hips to the under of your boobs, massaging his fingers delicately as they began to let them explore further. He took his lips from yours and dipped his face inside the crook of your two boobs, letting his tongue graze your skin freely. You giggled at his lack of self-control, something out of character for him. It wasn’t until you felt the sting of his teeth on the apex of your tit that you pushed him back.

“Kylian!” You shake your head and playfully slap his shoulder.

His overdramatic ass held the spot, hissing. “Ay! Why’d you do that?”

“I’m sitting with your mom and now I’m covered in hickeys.”

He laughed a little, but stopped when he saw your face was slightly serious past the wall of infatuation. He cleared his throat, tugging your shirt up high enough to cover one of them, then quirking his eyebrow at the one on your neck.

“Do you have a scarf?” He grins. You slap his arm again. “Ow! Okay, okay! I’m sorry. I just couldn’t help myself. It’s this damn top.” He gestures, hugging your hips.

“Oh, it’s my shirt's fault now, is it?” He always made you smile, even if you were about to embarrass yourself in front of his mother.

The top was new… you bought it off some small business and it finally came in. A little smaller than you expected, a little more revealing for sure, but it paired nicely with the scorching summer weather. Plus, Kylian was clearly a fan.

He kissed you deeply once more, running his hands over the top of your ass, fingers stretching downward to give you a wanting squeeze.

"Later." You mumble against his lips, dragging your body away from his cage, having to push him with a laugh when he tries to hold you harder. "Good luck today. I love you."

"Love you too." He watched you intently as you left, blowing him a rushed air kiss. He sighed, looking down at his slightly tighter shorts. With a tusk, he threw his hands down. "Well, shit."

The game was tough to concentrate on and his eyes frequently wandered up the stands to the place he knew you were. You were almost just a speck but even just the sliver of the sight of you made his brain goo up, forcing himself to snap out of it and focus on the ball rolling around the grass an embarrassing amount of times.

You sat the entire game with your hand casually around your neck, thanking the soccer gods that the game was over in just thirty seconds. The concealer in your purse helped, but the hyper-awareness of the mark around his parents was too strong. The whistle blew loudly and everyone cheered for the home team.

With a big breath, you went over to Kylian parents to say your goodbyes. You hoped you didn’t seem rude by keeping your distance from them this evening, but even though you and Ky are both grown adults and they most likely know you do stuff, it still seems disrespectful to flaunt around the bruise that their son sucked onto your skin like an animal.

You leaned in and kissed Fayza and Wilfried while using your phone to cover the wine colored spot on your neck as best you could. “We need to plan something soon!” You cheered, your phone chiming over and over again.

Wilfried nods, smiling widely. “Oh, please. I’ll make some of that chicken you liked last time”

Buzz. Buzz.

You ignore it.

“Yes! That’d be great.”

Your phone wouldn’t stop buzzing, distracting the painfully awkward goodbye.

“Do you need to get that?” Fayza giggled after the tenth notification. You knew who it was. Who else would it be but your horny boyfriend with nothing on his mind but your tits, high off his teams’ win against Lens.

You nod and laugh it off. “Yeah, I probably should. My, uh… friend is looking for me.” Clearly a lie. You were never too good at fibbing – not that it ever stopped you from trying when the truth was more damning. You wave a final goodbye and weave through crowds of people while simultaneously trying to keep up with all the messages that flooded your cell, saying quick ‘sorry’s and ‘excuse me’s while shuffling past the masses.

Ky: Get down here right now

Ky: Couldn’t stop thinking about you, amour.

Ky: I’ll come find you if I have to. I need you so bad.

Ky: I think I deserve a victory prize

Ky: That tank top is my new favorite thing you own. So fucking hot.

You shook your head with a suppressed chuckle and a clear ache forming in your lower stomach until finally, you made it to the entrance surrounded by security, showing them your badge and a smile. The desperation in your step must’ve looked silly as you searched for his face in every person that came into your line of vision in the significantly less crowded area, hoping to see his familiar lust filled eyes.

You: Outside the locker rooms

It couldn't have even been thirty seconds after you message him that he walked out, letting the door shut behind the celebratory cheers of his teammates, eyes dead set on yours – no shirt, very low hanging shorts, sweat still glistening on his skin from an intense ninety minutes and harsh lights of the hallway.

You slowly blink through your sultry stare, feeding on the muscles contracting under his skin with every step he took. “Congratul-”

He didn’t care for your congratulations or whatever you were about to say, he took your waist and planted a kiss on your lips – one that soldiers give their wives after coming home from war. One that swept you off your feet, letting the strength of his tired arms hold you up, resisting the urge to kick up your foot while your arms draped around his neck.

He pulled back with the most blown out pupils you’d seen him have in a while.

Jesus, this Etsy shop is getting five stars and a novel-long review.

You breathe in deep and remember there are quite a few people lingering around – people with cameras and you’re not really sure how well either of you are hiding your needs right now. Kylian definitely wasn’t. You felt it poking the inside of your thigh.

“Come on.” He grumbled, running his tongue over his teeth behind his lopsided smirk, eyes flicking between your eyes and lips like he was malfunctioning.

With a firm hand on the small of your back, he leads you down the hallway to a lesser populated area. He stopped abruptly by the mens bathroom and looked around for any witnesses before pushing his back against the door, dragging you with him in with his tight grip on you.

“Really? The men's bathroom?” You question, watching him lock the door as you sauntered over to the huge sinks, taking a look at yourself in the mirror.

He smirks so devilishly when he comes up behind you, slow and taunting, shamelessly undressing you with his stare all while ignoring your question. He didn’t even hear it, completely unable to multitask at the moment. “Stop gawking.” You demand shyly as you watch his reflection get closer and closer to your backside.

He cocks his head. “Am I gawking?”

“Completely.”

You breathe in when his front hits your back and his hand finds your exposed thigh. The gentlest touch – barely grazing his way up and up with the pads of his fingers, feeling every goosebump he’s formed along the way. His hand reaches your hip, pulling you into his body desperately and roughly, a complete 180 from just a single second ago, his jagged breathing tickling your ear.

“I think I’m allowed to gawk at my girlfriend.” He decides, watching your eyes blink slowly as you observe him in the reflection. His eyes dip down over your shoulder, getting the view he so desperately wanted, his hands unstoppable as they tug the material of your shirt down from the bottom hem, revealing your cleavage more and more. “Where’d you get this shirt, hm?”

You try and gulp subtly, but the twitch in his crooked smile lets you know it didn't go unnoticed. “Why do you need to know?”

“So I know where to get you another when I rip this one off of you.” He finally plants a kiss to your skin, right where your shoulder meets that strap of the tank top. He bites the strap and tugs at it, letting it snap back onto your skin. You shudder at the feeling and he laughs menacingly at your reaction. The vibrations from his chest go straight to your aching chore, so sensitive to every touch and sensation.

You turn around and face him, tits now squished against his shirtless figure, clearly sending his brain into overdrive as he lowers his face until his lips meet the tops of your boobs with a wet tongue. He tugs the shirt down and down, mouth closely following the skin as it’s revealed until the material is bunched up under your bra, surely stretching out the straps irreversibly – but fuck, who cares. He had his nose buried comfortably between your cleavage, making you throw your head back as his hands found your ass. He gives you a good squeeze before lifting you up onto the countertop, pulling back only to look at how his spit glistened on the mounds.

He was hypnotized by the shimmer, almost drooling at the sight as he mumbles a french curse word you didn’t really hear. You grab the hem of his shorts, pulling him even closer than before and letting the material snap back onto his skin with a vengeful giggle.

He shakes his head and tusks threateningly. “Why are you being bad?” His voice is so low.

“Bad?” You smirk, running a finger all the way down his jaw, down his jugular, his chest, until you hook it back on his shorts. You look for his reaction before letting it snap back again. He breathes in through his mouth, jaw slightly unhinged with lack of control. “What if I feel like being bad?” You taunt in a whisper sensually, provoking your overly aroused boyfriend, watching his eyes turn completely black, lust blown and taking in every image of you.

“You’re asking for it.” He warns – and it was a warning. A chilling one. His fingers dug harshly into your waist. The material of your jean shorts were certain to leave a pattern in the shape of his long and strong digits.

You take a second to really contemplate, or at least pretend to – narrowing your eyes at him and biting your lip as your gaze traced his collarbones. Your hands still rested on his shorts and you peeked between your bodies to see the tent he had pitched. Fuck. You slowly grazed your calf on his before digging your fingers right back under the hem, staring into his dangerous eyes, knowing you were done for when you let it snap once more, much harsher than the last time.

You couldn’t stop the smile that made its way to your face as he turned dark at your blatant disobedience. He shakes his head, looking at you in a way that turned you on and frightened you all at once.

He was about to say something and you were dying to hear it; faces only inches away as you both breathed jaggedly, hands ready to roam and feel – but the door was trying to be opened on the other side.

You both whipped your heads in the direction, thankful that Kylian had locked it. “Shh. Ignore it.” He whispers, but then someone knocks.

“Kylian?” You both hear from the outside.

“Merde.” He huffs, severely disappointed with closed eyes, helping you off the counter. “It’s coach.”

“Oh my god, what?” You whisper. “What do I do?”

He ushered you to the big stall as the knocking continued. “One second!” He calls, closing the door on you as he hurries to get rid of Glatier.

You can hear them from the stall, back leaned against the wall as you fixed your exposed bra in case you were busted.

“Hi, coach.” You hear Kylian greet his superior.

“Kylian… what are you doing?” Glatier’s laugh sounds uneasy.

“I just… needed some alone time…” The way he said it makes you want to slap your hand on your forehead. You hoped he hid his little problem in his waistband, or something, or else Glatier will think that he was jerking off in here. Not that the truth was any better… “You need something?”

Glatier takes a second. “No, I was just wondering where you were and someone said they saw you come down this way. Your parents were waiting for you out there – oh! Hi, Wilfried. I found him.”

No. Fucking. Way.

“Your mother and I have been texting you, Kyky.” His dad laughs and you hear him pat him on the shoulder.

Kylian chuckles… very uncomfortably. “Oh, sorry, papa. I was just coming back.”

“Where’d (Y/N) run off to? She left in a rush, have you seen her?”

“Oh… uh… no?” God, he sucks at this. “She’s meeting us by the locker rooms in a couple minutes, I’m sure. Let’s go there now.”

You hear the door close and make sure the silence meant you were truly alone before trepidatiously stepping out of the stall. You need to splash some water on your face. It was hot in this bathroom after the events that just took place. You ran your hand under the cool water and pressed a cold, wet palm to your neck, hoping your blushing would subside with the change of temperature. With another quick look-over and adjusting your tank top over the bruised up mark, you decide you look just fine.

You open the door and immediately bump chests with someone. “Oh, sorry.” You mumble with an awkward laugh.

The man about your age quirks an eyebrow. “You know this is the mens room, right?”

You nod. “Ha, yeah. The urinals gave it away. Sorry.” You step around him and try to continue to walk down the hallway.

“Wait!” You hear the man yell. You turn as he approaches you again. “What’s your name?” The miniscule flicker of his eyes peeking at your cleavage made your skin crawl. Instinctively, you cross your arms over your chest.

You look back and spot Kylian talking with his parents down the hall, a clean shirt now covering his once exposed torso. “Um. (Y/N).” You begin walking away again, but he turns you around with a touch on your arm and you shrug his hand off with a face that screamed ‘not interested’.

The hint was not received.

“I’m Luca. And you are beautiful.” He smiles, the beer on his breath now evident.

You purse your lips. “Thanks… okay, bye.” You turn once more, only to be stopped once more.

“You’re sassy, aren’t you?” He chuckles, taking out his phone. “Let me get your Instagram.”

You shake your head. “I have a boyfriend.”

He persists. “It’s just Instagram.”

“Sorry, but no.” You really tried walking away this time and kept walking even though he called out to you again by name.

He grabs your arm once again as he stands in front of you now, still smiling cheekily. “I can play hard-to-get. I like games. ” You try to shake off his grasp but he insists until you physically take his hand off of your forearm.

“I’m not playing any games, dude.” You say while he now shamelessly looks down your top. You roll your eyes and grimace, feeling a gross shiver come up your spine as you, once more, try to get away from him.

Kylian is walking toward you with an angry step, his expression just as furious. You could hear the guy still walking behind you as Kylian gets closer, his eyes locked behind you where you’re sure Luca was on the receiving end of a frightening death glare. Kylian wraps a secure arm around your waist and pushes you to stand behind him. You felt like a toddler hiding behind their mommy, peering around your boyfriends bulky frame to see Luca starstruck to be in the presence of someone like Kylian.

“Ah, man!” He shouts excitedly. “Fuckin’ Mpabbé’s your boyfriend?” He asks you as if this was a monumental moment of realization for him. Kylian steps up to the guy who still hadn't realized the fury radiating from his body.

You tugged Kylians hand and looked toward his parents who were now looking in your direction, concerned by the looks of it. “Come on, Ky. I’m fine. Let it go. Please.”

You could tell the second Luca realized that he had severely angered this professional athlete and he was absolutely no match against your man. He gulped and backed up. “My bad, man,” was all he said as he backtracked down the hallway, not even using the bathroom like you’re certain he intended to.

Kylian watched him disappear behind some double doors before he even turned to you, squeezing your hand in his, pulling you close and kissing your hairline. You were almost mad at him for causing a scene but much too relieved that he came to save you to say anything. Fayza and Wilfried looked a little angry themselves as they chatted about the ordeal with disapproving shakes of the head. You couldn’t hear them but what else could it be, right?

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.” Kylian stated, taking a couple of breaths as you approached his family, humiliated by what they had to witness.

“Are you okay, dear?” Fayza asks with a comforting hand on your arm.

You wave it off. “Yeah, no, I'm fine.”

“Good, good.” She looks at you with a remorseful and motherly stare. You hated that kind of pitiful attention, especially from Kylians parents.

“Anyway…” You chuckle trying to diffuse the palpable tension, “great game, Ky.”

He squeezes your hand once more and smiles tensely, the obvious feelings of jealousy still simmering at the surface. “Thank you.”

His mom rubbed his back, noticing his stiff demeanor after the situation. “Go home and relax, mon amour.” She says to him tenderly.

“I wish.” He huffs, hand still tangled in yours. “We have to stay here for a few more hours. The club owners are coming by with friends, or something.”

You frowned. “I was going to make us some dinner tonight.” You weren’t. But, you squeezed his hand and made him look at you – your needy eyes, desperate to finish what you’d started.

His lip twitches, reading your intentions clearly. “I’ll still eat. Wait for me.”

A certain habit you had that Kylian didn’t care for was taking care of yourself when he was too busy. Impatience wasn’t something you could always help, especially when it meant sitting alone with dirty thoughts about your boyfriend overtaking you – all of you.

“Don’t keep her waiting too long, Kylian.” His mom tusks. “Poor girl, must be starving.”

“Yeah, Ky.” You smirk and look up at him with those damn eyes he can’t resist. “I’m starving.”

His parents left after the traffic had died down and you weren’t far behind them, much to Kylians dismay. He was able to corner you for a quick and handsy make out session for only a few minutes until you were caught by Marquinhos and Ramos. They whooped and hollered as you blushed furiously, covering your face as Kylian shooed them away and doing his best to cover you, but a proud little smirk found its way onto his face. He disputed you when you said you’d wait for him at home, wanting you to stay so badly – but you kissed him goodbye and left with a wink, squeezing your chest together as you walked out.

You were like a virus. A fucking vixen, or something. The power you held over him was unspoken, but you were both aware that you knew ways to drive him absolutely crazy.

In the absence of you, his thoughts were reduced to filthy scenarios of when he finally got home. He was so bored just sitting there, watching the club owners and their old friends sit around a table, completely uninterested in the team's presence. No one understood why they still had to be there, but couldn’t disobey Glatier’s request – order – for all of them to stick around until the owners & friends decided to go home.

Kylian scrolled endlessly on his phone, jumping from app to app trying to entertain himself as best he could. He had scrolled so far on Instagrams 'recommended posts’ feed that his thumb was getting sore. He came across a picture from today's match that made him smile. It was you in the stands with his mom, laughing with her about something. He wished he knew what it was, but felt warm at the idea that you and her had little moments like that when he wasn’t around.

@kylianfanpage: (Y/N) and Fayza at today's home match against Lens.

He clicked the share button and sent you the post… but quickly wished he didn’t.

He should have skimmed the comments first and felt stupid for not even thinking about that. Comment sections are the fucking worst. He scrolled through the hundred or so responses with a pit in his stomach, grimacing at every objectifying comment from these people who didn’t know you. His mind couldn’t stop itself from going astray, wondering if those guys thought about you in ways they shouldn’t. You – his girl – in their dirty fucking fantasies.

You: Lmao the comments… looks like this top is a crowd pleaser

He stared at your message enraged that you weren’t more pissed off about them.

Ky: It’s not funny.

Ky: They shouldn’t talk about you like that.

Ky: They know you’re mine.

You leaned against the kitchen counter with your thumbnail taken between your teeth as Kylian continued his possessive outburst. It wasn’t necessarily a humorous situation – all these people looking at you as just a pair of tits – but, sadly, you were kind of used to it. Eventually, you realize that their comments only matter if you let them matter. Kylian was the one who actually told you that wise advice, seemingly unable to follow his own instructions.

You let him continue ranting to himself over text while you prepared to take a picture for him. Bra poking out of the infamous shirt, high angle for his sake, pursed lips and sexy eyes – you snapped only a single selfie and sent it.

You: Just come home and fuck me already.

The other side went silent. The first time your phone had stopped buzzing since he began scrolling the comments. He was too occupied staring at this picture to have his dumb little fingers type anything at all, not that he could even come up with the right response to such a tantalizing photo. His back was pressed against the wall, phone so close to his face in case a teammate decided to look over his shoulder. His hand was covering his mouth and rubbing his chin, only able to tear his mind out of the gutter when he heard someone calling his name.

The party's end was long overdue and finally people started saying their goodbyes.

Kylian shook every hand as quickly as he could without seeming rude, but – god – he just wanted to go home to you. He wanted the daydreams that he’s formed over the past few hours to become real; to feel your skin under his. Hot, sweaty, sticky. He wanted to hear you scream out his name for all of Paris to hear so they’d know that it was him, and only him, that could make you feel that good. He wanted to draw out noises that you’d never made before and watch you unravel for him – so vulnerable and powerless against the bedsheets.

It wasn’t like him to ask the driver to speed up, but he was really fighting the urge to just take over the wheel and steer himself home like the maniac he had been reduced to. His leg bounced in the back seat as he counted every street sign until he reached the very last one before his home – the one you didn’t officially occupy, but you might as well, spending most of your days there with him. He loved coming home to someone and dreaded the days when you actually went to your place to water your plants or make sure it hadn’t burned down in your absence. The silence that waited behind his front door on those days was gloomy. He craved to hear the sweet sound of you resonating down the halls. The light patter of your socks against the hardwood or an abrupt giggle about some funny tweet, sometimes even the huff of frustration when he left his shoes in the middle of a room gave his heart an extra little beat. Just knowing your lives were intertwined with the most trivial little daily things that added up was enough to make his affections swell.

He loved you tenderly, but tonight was not one for delicate sentiments. No. He needed you just as you needed him; raw and rough. The both of you craved each other like animals in heat after having to scrounge every ounce of self control and patience. The way he looked at you, the way you looked at him. It was so exciting. Above all, he needed to prove that you were his. Prove it to who? Fucking everyone. Anyone who ever laid eyes on you and thought they had even a sliver of a chance could go to hell because it would only ever be him.

You heard the front door slam. You heard his footsteps approaching the kitchen. Yet, you didn’t make any moves to give him too much attention. With a glass of red wine in hand, you leaned back on the counter – some random playlist refusing to let the silence build any more sexual tension.

You smirk as he approaches you, stopping to eye you up and down. “You changed.”

You looked down at your new outfit: A pair of cotton shorts and a large hoodie. “I did.” You reach for another stemmed glass and pour him some of the same wine. Sauntering over to him, you hand him the glass, clicking it together with yours before taking another sip, never breaking eye contact. He doesn’t drink his, instead drinking you in completely.

Kylian takes the glass out of your hand and sets both of them inside the sink. “Do you think I’m waiting any longer to fuck you?” His words and glare tighten your tummy.

Whenever Ky got in headspaces like this, it sent you the urge to push his buttons a little bit. There was something so sexy about pissing him off just enough to get what you needed out of him. He was the gentle type – a bit goofy at times, and you adored that about him. But then these nights come around and it makes you wonder if there's a full moon in the sky causing these animalistic urges to become that much more obvious and aggressive.

“You took a really long time..” You say to him, reaching down and toying with his fingers that hung on the sides of his body. Just a minimal touch that you know he was so sensitive to right now. “I was lonely…”

He laughs dryly and takes a step forward, closing in on you as you take steps back in tandem. “Lonely?” He growls as your back hits the edge of the counter.

“Mhm.” You hum, basking in the heat that came off his body. “I almost couldn’t help myself.”

“But you did.” He watches for your confirmation, his arms trapping you between him and the marble. You make a guilty face and purse your lips, tugging at his white t-shirt with fidgety fingers. “Are you gonna answer me?” He demands to know.

You smirk. “Somehow, I found a way to control myself.” You pull his shirt closer to you. “‘Cause I knew you’d be mad if you came home and found me with my hand between my legs.” His eyes are dark when you tease a kiss on his lips, but pull away, leaving him with half lidded eyes and a lonely mouth. “I have a surprise for you, baby.” You disclose as your nails scratch at his hip bones mindlessly.

“For me?” He mumbles, but his brain clearly isn’t processing anything that well at the moment.

You nod and place a soft kiss to his open neck. Just one. Then you push him away slightly. With a teasing pace, you toy with the sweatshirt you had put over a new tank top – a white one that you didn’t necessarily mind getting sharpie on. If anything, this one was a little tighter and more revealing. You lifted the heavy sweater over your head as Kylian settled himself comfortably against the counter, watching you like prey.

His look of surprise is usually wide eyes and grand expressions, but this one was heavier in a sense. Half lidded eyes that only blink slower, ravaging you completely, almost predatory in a way that excites you. What have you gotten yourself into?

You had written in big bold letters across your chest: For Kylian Mbappé only.

He sucked air in through his teeth before biting his lip harshly, grabby hands finding your waist to pull you to him. “Mon Dieu…” He breathed, dipping his head down almost immediately to attach himself to your perky nipple that showcased itself through the thin material. His hands traced the skin just under your boobs and squished them together as he alternated sides. Your head is thrown back at the feeling of his warm tongue and gentle bites, holding his head in place, right where you wanted him.

He pulls back just enough to see how the shirt had become see through with his spit, humming and running his thumbs over the harsh peaks of your marbled tits.

“Do you like it?”

He makes an instinctive noise with his throat as a response, pushing the material up. Your tits were taut as he tried to roll it upwards until they bounced out, Kylian watching so intently you physically felt his eyes on your body.

“You wanna fuck ‘em?” You tease, standing there and letting him eat you alive with his stare.

He looks up at you with a breath caught in his throat. He bites his lip. Hard. Immediately wrapping a hand around your neck and bringing you in. He didn’t even need to warm you up to his tongue as you felt it roll on the roof of your mouth. The hand that didn’t have a hold on your throat was placed on your ass to guide you, walking with him as best you could while he attached himself to you like a leech.

Desperately, you tugged his shirt off over his head, throwing it in some random direction while he stumbled your entwined bodies toward the bedroom, but stopping right by the couch in the living room. He pulled away and pushed you down onto it. You fell with a ‘hmph’, eyes wide with surprise at the sudden action while Kylian stood over you, stroking his length through his shorts.

“I can’t wait another minute, amour.” He growled as he walked to the edge of the sofa. You made quick movements of sitting up, looking at him through your lashes when your hands desperately latched to the hem of his pants and pulled them down with his boxers, taking him into your mouth with no warning. He hummed in approval, finally getting a taste of the satisfaction he’d been craving from you all day long. Your cravings were also being curved when his cock hit the back of your throat. You needed him buried inside of you – deep enough for you to see stars, rough enough that you’d be sore in the morning.

He pushed your forehead back after only a few seconds, his shaft glistening with your spit.

“Lay down.” An order you immediately followed. He straddled your chest with his dick in his hand, pumping it while the other played with your bare tits, squeezing and tugging at your nipples harshly.

He had never fucked your tits before, surprisingly enough. His obsession with them was obvious and he verbalized it to you every time he got to thinking about them. Secretly, you loved when you caught him leering at them, though you acted quite shy about it. It happened so often that you were sure he’d have asked you by now if he could get off between your boobs. He never had… but, fuck… he knew exactly how.

He toyed his tip against your perked nipples, watching intently as they rolled under his own skin, so soft and supple. It wasn’t long he did that before you pushed the girls together to give him the necessary tension he desired.

He shakes his head with a long sigh. “Tu es mon vice, putain.” You’re my fucking vice.

The way he watched his tip disappear between the flesh ws pornagraphic in itself. You wanted to see it, you really did. By the look on his face it was a hot view… but his eyebrows furrowing slightly upward… his jaw slack… his hooded eyes blinking only when necessary… you fucking love that man.

“Feels good, huh, baby?” You say in a tempting whisper, squeezing them tighter around him.

He nods as his eyes close and his head is thrown back, a sigh of pleasure wheezing out of his parted lips. His tip poked out of your cleavage, urging you to stick your tongue out and taste him. “Fuck.”

He looked down at you and quickened his pace, thrusts dragging against our skin. He harshly ripped your hands off of your own boobs, letting them fall naturally. “Spit on it, ange.”

You did.

He took over the job of squishing them together, using his thumbs to play with your sensitive nipples. The moans you squealed out with the stimulation were filthy. Just absolute music to his ears.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his face, beads of sweat collecting and reflecting off the kitchen light you’d left on. His chiseled chest moved to the pace of his heavy breathing. The bone of his hip flexed with every thrust, and you just had to reach forward and grasp his skin because he was too good to be true.

“You’re so goddamn sexy.” The words slurred out of your lips, forcing him to look down at your bouncing body under his.

He was overtaken with pride. You were his. He wanted to give you everything and take care of you. The day hell froze over was the day another man could even conceive the possibility of a chance with you. Even the thought of that caused him to pull away and shuffle down to the other end of the couch.

He might as well have ripped your shorts off with how harshly he yanked them down, exposing you to his greedy eyes. “You’re all mine. Fuck, you’re so wet.” He attatched his fingers flat on your core, spreading your juices and focusing the pressure on your clit. The buildup of it all made you jolt at first contact, gasping as your knees instinctively shut. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “You need me that bad?”

“Mhm.” You whine.

He opened your legs back up with his large and warm palm, squeezing the fat of your thigh as he positioned his cock to your entrance, teasing both of you as he ran it through your folds.

“You think any other man can make you feel like I can?”

You shook your head, desperate for his tip to break into you. “No. Never. No one else.”

“Good girl.” He chuckled almost maliciously, slowly prodigy himself inside of you – just the tip.

Your lip was caught harshly between your teeth as you waited for him to push it in deeper, but he stayed still, your hole stretched out with his head resting inside you. He hovered over you, placing kisses to your neck and collarbone, sucking a big hickey on your skin, but you hadn’t noticed until you felt him biting. You whimper at the sting and he pulls off, soothing the spot with a lick. Your hands travel to his ass and try to pull him in to move, but he wouldn’t budge – instead moving to another part of your chest and repeating his actions.

“Ky… please, baby.”

He finished his artwork before looking up and meeting your hazy stare, a lopsided smirk telling you everything you needed to know. It told you everything you needed to tell him.

“I’m yours, Kylian.” You whisper desperately. “Only yours. No one else can have me.” You jut your hips forward, but he stayed still, cynical smile still painted across his face. “Fuck, baby, please. You make me feel so good. I need you so bad. Fuck me already, Jesus Christ... Please.” You begged shamelessly, hands still trying to push him inside which he found humorous.

He put his lips on yours seductively, kissing you like he owned you. It took you by surprise, delightfully moving your hand to his shoulders and holding him tightly.

In one movement, he dragged the entirety of his length inside your gunny walls. You gasped into the kiss when you felt the delicious draw of his girth, and all Kylian could do was smile, mouth still on yours as you both breathed into each other. The moan you let out sent chills down his spine which your nails dragged over harshly.

The feel of your boobs squished under him drove him mad – truly, it did. The contact made his brain whir, hand finding a way to grasp at one of them, all the while sucking another mark into the side of your neck, just under your jaw.

His thrusts were deep and long, the sound of skin slapping together louder than the music that neither of you could even think about focusing on right now. The consistent pace was spellbinding. The trimmed tuft of hair on his pelvis rubbed on you sweetly, knotting up your stomach in the most glorious way.

His hand left your fatty flesh and found itself around your neck, putting just enough pressure on your pulse points.

“You like that?” Kylian grumbles, never flattering in his movements. You bite your lip and place your own palm over his knuckles, nodding as best you could with his hand wrapped around your throat, clenching your walls tightly around him. “Ah, merde… bébé…”

He began going faster. Harder. You were sure he couldn’t go any quicker as his grunts became more strained. By any definition, you were getting railed. He was fucking you into the soft couch cushions, tears of pleasure welling up in your eyes as the knot grew and grew. You were almost there, clutching onto his wrist as if it would anchor you. He saw your eyes begin to cross, your jaw limply hanging, your jagged and suppressed breaths becoming quicker with the intensity of his thrusts.

So he pulled out.

Taking his hand off your throat, he sat back and stood up, leaving your naked body on the couch – cold and whining. Your legs pressed together trying to replace the pressure that was there only seconds ago. Before you could really protest, he made another demand.

“Bend over the back of the couch.” He said this with his painfully hard dick in his hand, eating you alive with his red-hot stare.

You couldn’t even think about disobeying, your shaking limbs following orders before the words had really even been comprehended by your brain. You stuck your ass out toward him, forearms resting on the decorative table set behind the sofa as you peek back behind your shoulder to see your man leering at you with intensity. He grabbed the meat of your hips, landing a smack on one of your cheeks, soothing it with a kiss right after.

“I’m so crazy about you.” He mumbles, lining himself up and thrusting in without hesitation.

“Kylian!” You gasp, a moan following directly after. This new angle hitting that spot so perfectly, lulling your head forward onto the wooden surface. “God, that’s so good. You’re so fucking big.”

His hand found your hair, pulling your head back and arching your back. He leaned forward and bit your shoulder before sucking another mark onto you. Kylians breathing ticked your ear as he pressed himself closer to you. “This pussy’s fucking mine.” He licked the shell of your ear and continued his trail of blotchy stains. You don’t even know when he began playing with your tits again, rolling the bud between his thumb and forefinger.

He was kissing you anywhere he could reach, somehow maintaining a brutal pace that bounced your entire body back and forth. You felt him poking your cervix over and over, the tug on your scalp boosting every sensation you felt. It was a vicious fuck, shaking around the table so much that a couple of books fell and a decorative box tumbled onto the floor. Neither of you gave a shit, though. You two were too focused on each other to give a shit about anything at all.

“I’m so close, Ky…” Your voice shook with your warning.

“Not yet, amour. Not until I say so.”

You whimpered, shutting your eyes tightly, soaking in the sounds of the love you were making; skin on skin, colliding moans of pleasure, tired and strained heaving. The pull and tug of his quickly timed thrusts had your mind going elsewhere. There wasn’t a thought in your head except how your tight pussy was stretching to fit him and how good you felt… You could get a good assessment of how close Kylian was by looking at his face, but he had buried himself in the crook of your neck, hiding his expressions from your turned head, sucking yet another mark onto you.

You wanted to cum so bad. You could barely hold it with your mind's refusal to go elsewhere – unable to conceive any other thoughts. Your thighs were shaking, tears swelling to your waterline at the extreme pleasure mixed with the pain of holding back that only amplified your senses.

He moved his hand from your tits to your clit, making harsh and fast circles on it.

You screamed a moan and began to try and focus on your breathing. “Shit, baby – please. Can I cum? I-I can’t hold it.”

His breathing was so heavy against your skin. “Just a little longer.”

You whined with every thrust, eyes shut so tightly with focus. His fingers didn’t let up, not even when you felt his thrusts hesitate, a grunts taking over his throaty ‘ah, ah’s.

It must’ve only been a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity until he finally pressed his lips to your ear. “Let go for me.”

The moan that came out of you was long, loud, there must've been a curse in there somewhere but you were seeing stars, completely done for when Kylian painted your gummy pink walls white. His fingers kept going through your orgasm and his. It was only halfway through your come down that you even processed that you had gone limp, only held up by Kylians weakened arm that held you up by your stomach.

Ky places tired kisses on your shoulder, untangling his hand from your hair and rubbing it on your bare back. “You okay, cherie?” He asks between breaths.

You take a moment and nod, eyes shut and head resting on your folded arms. He pulled out with hiss, shuffling back on his feet and going to the kitchen to grab some wet paper towels to clean up the dripping mess from your used cunt.

You watched with a hazy glare as your boyfriend stood buck naked by the sink. “You have a cute butt.” You mumble with a smile.

Kylian laughs, shaking his head. “Stop gawking.”

You roll your eyes at his mockery, smile hiding behind your arm as he walks back to you and wiping you down softly – a little ‘sorry’ mumbled when he made you jolt by running it over your overly sensitive clit. You turn and relax on the couch, Kylian coming down right next to you, pulling you into his chest. The pair of you rested in silence, your ear pressed directly over his heart, the thumping sending you to sleep.

“Wanna go to bed?” He asks, tapping your arm to make sure you were lucid enough to hear him. You rub your eyes and nod, but make no effort to move. He chuckles, shaking you a tiny bit until your eyes open. “Come on, I’ll tuck you in.”

With shaky legs and a guiding hand from your loving boyfriend, he leads you up the stairs and under the comforter.

The next morning you wake up alone, as per usual. Kylian is off training and the first thought in your head is that you gotta get home to grab the mail. The poor mailman must be struggling to pack it into the little box attached to the front door. Groggily, you pick up your phone and read the good morning text from Kylian.

Ky: Good morning baby. You were sleeping like a damn rock when I left but you looked so cute.

It made you giggle.

You: Stalker

The floor was cold but the air was colder, seeing as you were still completely naked from last night, but power through and patter to the bathroom to pee… but your reflection in the mirror caught your attention.

You gasp, getting closer to see the damage done from last night's activities. You couldn’t whip your phone out fast enough.

You: I’m so mad at you.

You set it down and trace the bruises littering your body in the shape of Kylians mouth – they were everywhere. Everywhere. It would probably be easier to point to the places that were free of the dark pigmentation.

Ky: tf did I do?

He had to see for himself, snapping selfies as evidence, angled left, right, up, down, even some from the back where he had marked you as he fucked you from behind.

Ky: I’m not even sorry

Ky: That’s so hot

Ky: I’m proud of those

You laughed in disbelief.

You: How the hell am I supposed to leave the house with these?

Ky: Guess you have to stay over for a while

Ky: I’ll have you all to myself for a little bit longer

Kylian smirked to himself, barely able to concentrate on the workout he was currently doing, back leaning against the mirror wall as he zoomed into the pictures, cocky and proud of his creation painted all over your neck and chest.

“Puta, Kyky!” Sergio exclaims from the exercise bike directly in front of where he sat. “Are you a vampire, or something? Sheesh, man.”

Kylian shut his phone off, only now realizing how mirrors work. “Mind your business, Ramos.” He tusked, a blush creeping up his neck and ears.

“You saw that too?” Vitinha chuckled from another machine.

Kylian got up with a shaking finger at his team, walking over to the sauna room alone to text you in peace, sitting down on the bench.

You: I’m going home for a few days. My poor house is probably being taken over by dust

Ky: You should sell it then

He didn’t really think before typing, but pressed send anyway. Only after reading it over did he begin chewing on his fingernail with anticipation… probably not the best way to bring up moving in together for the first time.

You: Are you joking?

He looked around the small room, noticing he was completely alone, pressing the call button.

You picked it up with a toothbrush hanging out of your mouth. “Kylian.” You greet with a foamy mouth. “Why are you asking me to sell my house?”

Just hearing your voice makes him smile shyly to himself. Even over the grain of his cell phone's speaker he thought it was the sweetest sound. “Because I think you’d look better at mine.”

You spit out the minty paste, wiping your mouth quickly, but not really knowing what to say, a dry laugh coming out. “Is that the only reason?”

“You know it’s not.” He twiddles with the tag on the towel next to him. “You make everything better. Like, I actually look forward to coming home when I know you’re waiting for me. It always smells good because you’re obsessed with lighting those little scented candles after dinner. Sometimes, I forget you don’t actually live there and I get really sad when I get home and it’s quiet. I know I can be moody at times and a handful to deal with… but… I don’t know. You’re the happiest part of my day.” He rubs his forehead. “I guess I’m sounding a little selfish here… but what I’m trying to say is that – when you’re ready, I am too. I want it to be our home.”

The line goes silent, but the sauna begins to echo with a synchronous and dramatic “aww” from his teammates that decided to eavesdrop on his conversation. Kylian hurls the towels surrounding him at them aimlessly as they scurry off in laughter. “Come on, guys! A little privacy!” He yells, phone attached to his ear still.

You chuckle. “What was that?”

“Uh, nothing. Sorry.” He nervously answers, pacing a little with the jitters.

“Well…” You say, only amplifying the nerves that ran through Kylians limbs, his poor thumbnail raw from the wrath of his teeth. “If you have all those wonderful reasons to keep me around, what the hell took you so long to ask me, then?”

He pauses. “I’m a wimp.” You both chuckle. “Wait, is that a yes?”

Your laughter over the phone makes his heart patter. “Yeah, Ky. It’s a yes.” He does a little leap of excitement, joyfully laughing over the line. “But I still have to go home today… and I’m still a little mad at you about these hickeys.”

“Honestly, nothing can ruin my mood right now.” He smiles. “Alright, amour. I should go, but I love you. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay, Ky. I love you too.”

He hangs up the phone, grin permanently etched on his wrinkled face as he saunters out the sauna room with a pep in his step. As soon as he walks out the team's eyes are on him, clearly waiting for the update on the conversation they had butted their noses into.He shakes his head, but continues to smile from ear to ear. “She said yes.” He tusks. “So damn snoopy…”

A/N: I like this one! Except (idk how to explain it) I'm having a bad grammar week. Like I've been saying the wrong words and forgetting words in English and while editing I kept second guessing myself so PLEASE let me know if my grammar/word choice is wrong, but kindly, please :). Remember that I'm still, and always will be, learning english. It's a hard language.

ALSO!!! I've contacted tumblr about this issue but I've had a lot of people let me know they're not getting the notification even though theyre on my taglist. Idk what that's about but I hope it gets fixed soon. <3

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