Summary ~ when the clock strikes midnight but you get more than a new year’s kiss..
Warnings ~ might be shite..
A/N~ haven’t posted a fic in how long?! Here the fic I’ve been working on for what.. like a month now.. I hope it’s good..
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You and Kylian never rushed anything. That’s what everyone always said about the two of you. From the outside, it probably looked effortless: stolen glances across crowded rooms, laughter that came too easily, the way his hand always found yours without thinking. But what people didn’t see was how carefully it all unfolded. The long late-night calls when he was traveling. The quiet support you gave each other when life got overwhelming. The way he made space for you in a world that constantly demanded his attention, and how you never asked him to be anything other than himself.
You didn’t need grand gestures to know he loved you. It was in the way he checked if you’d eaten. The way he listened—really listened—when you talked. The way he looked at you like you were home. You were partners, best friends first, deeply in love without needing to announce it to the world.
Still, there was something different in the air tonight.
New Year’s Eve had a way of doing that.
Both of your families were gathered together at the house, filling every room with warmth, noise, and familiar chaos. His mother laughed with yours in the kitchen, music playing softly in the background. Someone—probably one of his siblings—was already arguing over which song should play at midnight. The house smelled like food, candles, and winter.
You were curled up on the couch beside Kylian, his arm comfortably draped around your shoulders. Every now and then he pressed a kiss to your temple, absent-minded and affectionate. He looked relaxed, happy—though you caught him glancing at the clock more than once.
“You okay?” you whispered, tilting your head up toward him.
He smiled, that soft smile reserved just for you. “Yeah. Just… excited.”
The evening passed in laughter and games, old stories retold like legends. You felt safe here, surrounded by people who loved both of you. As the countdown to midnight crept closer, the energy shifted—people started gathering in the living room, phones out, champagne glasses ready.
Kylian squeezed your hand a little tighter.
“Come here,” he murmured, guiding you to stand with him near the center of the room.
You assumed it was for the kiss. It always was. A New Year’s kiss felt almost inevitable, like tradition. You smiled up at him, heart already fluttering.
“Ten!” someone shouted.
Everyone joined in, voices overlapping.
“Nine! Eight!”
You could hear your heartbeat in your ears. Kylian’s thumb brushed over your knuckles, grounding you.
“Three! Two!”
You leaned in slightly—
“One!”
Cheers exploded around you. Confetti popped, glasses clinked, people shouted “Happy New Year!”
But instead of leaning down to kiss you, Kylian stepped back.
Your smile faltered in confusion just as he dropped to one knee.
The room went silent in an instant.
Your breath caught painfully in your chest. “Kylian…?”
He looked up at you, eyes shining, completely steady despite the crowd watching. The noise faded away. It felt like it was just the two of you.
“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice carrying anyway. “I’ve played in front of thousands of people. I’ve lived my life in the spotlight. But nothing has ever scared me more than loving someone this much—and nothing has ever felt more right.”
Your eyes burned with tears before you even realized you were crying.
“You’ve been my calm, my strength, my home,” he continued. “No matter where I am in the world, you’re who I think of. You make everything make sense. I don’t want to step into another year without knowing that you’ll be by my side for all of them.”
He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small box. When he opened it, the ring caught the light—simple, elegant, perfect.
“So,” he said, voice thick with emotion now, “will you marry me?”
For a heartbeat, you couldn’t speak. Your hands flew to your mouth as tears spilled over, your entire body trembling. You heard gasps, soft cries, someone whispering “oh my God,” but none of it mattered.
“Yes,” you choked out, laughing through tears. “Yes. A thousand times yes.”
The room erupted.
Applause, cheering, crying—his family rushed forward, yours close behind—but Kylian stood up and pulled you into his arms first. He held you like he was afraid to let go, forehead resting against yours.
“Happy New Year,” he whispered.
You nodded, breathless. “Best one yet.”
This time, when he kissed you, it wasn’t just a New Year’s kiss.
Summary: After Kylian gets mad over a silly misunderstanding, things quickly heat up between you two, turning his anger into something much more intimate.
Word Count: 2.9K
Warning: Smut! (Minors DNI)
Author’s note: I’m back to writing about Kylian! Recent events surrounding him had been so messy that I couldn’t find any inspiration to write for him anymore, but a new idea arose so here it is! I have a few requests waiting and I’ll get through them as fast as I can & now I will be taking requests about Kylian as well 🫂 hope you enjoy this one! Let me know what you think 🩷
Water droplets clung to your flushed skin as you wrapped yourself in a fluffy white towel, stepping out of the steamy shower cabin. You grabbed another towel, running it through your damp hair before swiping a hand across the fogged-up bathroom mirror. The haze cleared just enough for you to see your reflection as you applied a few drops of face oil, the soothing sensation adding to the relaxation you desperately needed. The tension from the day melted away, your muscles loose and your mind clearer after the long, steamy escape.
With the towel securely wrapped around your body and droplets still trailing down your warm skin, you padded into the shared bedroom of you and Kylian. He was sprawled on the bed, one arm tucked behind his head, absently playing with the TV remote. A random documentary played on the screen, but from the way his eyes glazed over, it was obvious he wasn’t paying attention.
You glanced at him, noticing his lack of acknowledgment as you entered. It wasn’t that he didn’t see you — oh, he noticed. Kylian was angry, his mood as sour as unripe lemons.
You sighed, your annoyance bubbling to the surface. The root of his irritation wasn’t entirely unexpected. The night before, you’d gone to a friend’s birthday party, solo, since Kylian was away for an away game. You had bumped into your ex boyfriend there, exchanged a polite but fleeting conversation, and thought nothing of it. To you, the interaction was so insignificant that it didn’t even cross your mind to mention it when you spoke to Kylian later that night.
But Kylian, ever the hawk-eyed protector, had seen pictures of the party while on the plane home, one of which captured your brief exchange with your ex. He’d flipped. Your reassurances, how brief the interaction was, how little it mattered, didn’t help. He wasn’t just mad that your ex had been there; he was mad that you hadn’t told him about it.
When Kylian arrived home a few hours ago, you’d expected him to have cooled off. You were wrong. If anything, he was more wound up than before, his brooding silence a testament to his irritation. After his passive aggressive digs began to test your patience, you decided to take a shower to escape his sulking. But now, as you stood in front of the vanity applying leave-in conditioner to your damp hair, you couldn’t ignore his childish behavior any longer.
“Am I getting the silent treatment now?” you asked, your tone sharper than you intended.
Kylian sighed, his gaze fixed on the TV. “I’m not in the mood to talk, that’s all.”
“You’re being ridiculous, you know that?” You set the bottle of conditioner down with a frustrated thud.
He didn’t respond, his jaw tightening as his eyes stayed glued to the screen.
The double standard wasn’t lost on you. Whenever you got jealous, Kylian would laugh it off, his reassurances wrapped in humor and affection. To him, the idea of you doubting his loyalty or devotion was absurd; he loved you too much to entertain thoughts of anyone else. But when the tables turned, when he was the one feeling the pangs of jealousy, it was a completely different story.
He wasn’t unreasonable — he trusted you implicitly. He knew, without a shred of doubt, that your love and loyalty were his alone. But that didn’t stop the irrational surge of irritation when someone else tried to insert themselves into your space, even momentarily. Jealousy wasn’t about mistrust; it was about his protectiveness, his possessiveness, his inability to tolerate the idea of anyone else claiming even a fraction of your attention.
And now, here he was, stewing in his emotions, dragging both of you into his mood. It was petty, it was unnecessary, and it was maddening.
You perched on the edge of the bed, your gaze fixed on Kylian, who still stubbornly refused to look at you. Frustrated yet determined, you reached out and placed a hand on his leg, giving him a light shake.
“Come on now, I deserve forgiveness, don’t I?” you said, your voice dripping with playful sarcasm. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes internally at how much of a fuss he was making over something so trivial.
Kylian didn’t respond, his jaw clenching slightly, but his eyes betrayed him. They flickered downward as your towel shifted, slipping just enough to reveal a teasing glimpse of your cleavage. His gaze lingered, involuntarily captivated, before he snapped himself out of it, tearing his eyes away and gluing them back to the television.
You smirked knowingly. That was it — his resolve was cracking. He was on the verge of giving in, and you weren’t about to let the opportunity slip away.
“You’re really not going to talk to me?” you teased, your hand sliding up his thigh, your fingers brushing against the sensitive spot that you knew made his breath hitch.
His reaction was instant, his breathing faltered, and his eyes darted down to your hand resting on his leg. But like the stubborn man he was, Kylian quickly averted his gaze back to the screen. “I’m watching something,” he muttered, the words unconvincing even to himself.
You arched a brow, suppressing a laugh. “Oh, really?” you challenged softly, leaning in closer. You were sure he couldn’t even name what the documentary was about if his life depended on it.
Tightening the towel securely around your body, you moved to lie down beside him, the mattress dipping slightly under your weight. Your proximity was deliberate, your movements calculated. You knew Kylian better than anyone, and you could tell he was fighting a losing battle.
You scooted closer until your body was practically flush against his, your hand sliding up to cradle his jaw. You placed a featherlight kiss on his cheek, your nose brushing against his skin as you inhaled his intoxicating scent.
He didn’t protest — in fact, you could feel him relax slightly under your touch, though his gaze stubbornly remained on the screen.
“Still mad at me?” you murmured, your lips trailing kisses along the curve of his cheek, each one softer and more deliberate than the last.
“A little,” he admitted, the corners of his mouth twitching into the faintest hint of a smile. You were close now, victory was within reach.
“How do I make you forgive me?” you asked, your voice dropping into a sultry whisper as your lips moved down to his neck. His breath hitched again, and this time, he didn’t even pretend to resist. Tilting his head to the side, he silently invited you to explore, giving you access to his smooth, warm skin.
You didn’t waste the opportunity, pressing open-mouthed kisses against his neck, slow and tantalizing, just the way you knew he liked them. Each kiss lingered, your tongue flicking lightly against his skin, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.
“You’ll have to figure that out,” he said, his voice lower now, a teasing edge lacing his tone. His hand moved to tug at your towel, but you swatted it away, stopping him just before he could succeed.
“Not so fast,” you scolded with a playful smirk, pushing his hand aside. You locked eyes with him, your gaze commanding. “Turn the TV off.”
He hesitated for only a moment before obeying without question, reaching over to grab the remote and switching off the screen. The room plunged into a comfortable silence, save for the sound of your kisses as you resumed your exploration of his neck. His skin was already beginning to show the faint marks of your affection, love bites blooming wherever your lips touched.
This battle of wills wasn’t one Kylian was going to win, not tonight.
Your hand slid down his chest deliberately, your fingers gliding over the sculpted ridges of his torso. Even through the fabric of his shirt, you could feel the tautness of his abs. Slowly, you slipped your hand beneath the hem of his shirt, letting your palm rest against the firm, warm skin of his stomach.
Your lips moved purposefully from his neck to his ear, where you knew he was most sensitive. As your mouth lingered near his ear, you took your time, savoring the quiet anticipation that built with every second. His breathing grew heavier, a restrained whine rumbling in the back of his throat.
Your lips closed around his earlobe, sucking gently before nipping at it with your teeth. At the same time, your hand ventured lower, cupping and massaging him through his shorts. The moment your touch landed there, Kylian let out a shaky whimper, his body betraying him despite his effort to hold back.
“Fuck, Kylian…” you murmured, your breath hot against his ear, your voice thick with desire. “You’re hard.”
He was, impossibly so. It always amazed you how little effort it took to get him this worked up. But Kylian never felt embarrassed by it; in fact, he encouraged you to embrace the power you had over him, and you did just that.
Teasingly, you paused, removing your hand from his bulge to toy with the waistband of his shorts. Your fingertips skimmed the edge, dipping just slightly inside before retreating, a deliberate game meant to drive him wild. At the same time, your lips stopped their exploration, hovering near his ear but offering no further relief.
Kylian exhaled a frustrated sigh, the tension in his body practically vibrating beneath you. “Y/N,” he said, his tone firm but undercut by an unmistakable desperation.
“What do you want, Kylian? Tell me,” you teased, your voice dripping with sultry confidence. Your hand hovered halfway inside his waistband, motionless, as you gazed down at him. His dark eyes locked onto yours, burning with need, though his jaw clenched with resistance.
“I—” he started, but the words faltered, his head falling back against the pillow as he struggled with his pride.
You leaned down, your lips brushing the shell of his ear as you whispered, “Use your words, baby.” Your mouth found the spot behind his ear again, kissing it softly before dragging your tongue across his heated skin. The reaction was instant — his chest rose sharply as he let out a ragged sigh.
“Touch me,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. His head tilted again, baring his neck to you as though surrendering completely.
You pulled back slightly, feigning a look of surprise. “That’s it?” you teased, raising a brow.
When he didn’t respond right away, you began to withdraw your hand, a silent punishment for his hesitation. That’s when he broke.
“Please, Y/N,” he pleaded, his voice raw with desperation. “Please touch me. Please.”
A wave of satisfaction washed over you at his shameless begging. “Since you’ve asked so nicely…” you said with a wicked smile, sliding your hand fully into his shorts. Your fingers wrapped around his throbbing cock, pulling it free from the confines of his underwear. You gave him a few firm, deliberate strokes, feeling his length twitch in your grip.
Kylian’s head fell back, a deep groan escaping his lips as his body melted under your touch. You worked him slowly at first, savoring every reaction — the way his breathing turned ragged, the way his hips twitched upward, seeking more.
Just as the tension in him began to crest, you pulled your hand away, leaving him gasping in frustration. “Y/N,” he whined, his brows furrowing in protest, but he didn’t move, his body too overwhelmed to resist.
You silenced him with a knowing smirk, spitting into your palm before wrapping your hand around his cock again. This time, your strokes were slick and smooth, your grip firmer as you tugged his foreskin up and down his shaft. Your hand moved with precision, knowing exactly how to unravel him.
Your head remained buried in his neck, your lips grazing and sucking at his skin, leaving marks that would linger long after. You didn’t need to look at what you were doing, your familiarity with his body was second nature by now.
Kylian was a mess beneath you, his body trembling with pleasure. His head lolled back, his mouth open as soft, breathy moans spilled from his lips. His voice was broken, whimpering your name between gasps, and it only fueled your determination to drive him further over the edge.
As your hand worked its magic on him, Kylian’s body tensed beneath you, his stomach muscles clenching involuntarily. His moans grew louder, more guttural, a clear sign that he was nearing his breaking point. You smirked against his neck, relishing the power you held over him. When his hips started to buck upward, chasing the orgasm building within him, you abruptly pulled away, leaving him on the edge and visibly desperate.
“Y/N—” he started, his voice hoarse with frustration. The heaviness in his balls was unmistakable, and his cock twitched in protest, aching for release.
You silenced him with a searing kiss, your tongue slipping past his lips and tangling with his. As the kiss deepened, you reached up and tugged at the knot of your towel, letting it fall away and tossing it across the room. The cool air kissed your bare skin, but the heat radiating from Kylian was all you felt.
In one smooth motion, you broke the kiss just long enough to tug his shirt off over his head, discarding it in the same direction as your towel. Your hands explored the expanse of his broad chest, feeling the firmness of his pecs and the rapid rise and fall of his breath. Straddling him, you felt his hands instinctively grip your hips, his touch possessive and eager.
Without breaking eye contact, you reached down, guiding his throbbing cock to your dripping entrance. Slowly, you sank down onto him, his length stretching you perfectly. Kylian’s head fell back against the pillows, a loud, guttural moan tearing from his lips as he filled you completely.
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, his face twisting in pleasure.
Your hands splayed across his chest for balance as you began to move your hips, rolling them slowly to savor the sensation of him deep inside you. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your skin with an intensity that promised bruises. You welcomed the pressure, the reminder of how much he needed you.
“Feel so good, baby. So fucking good,” he cried out, his voice raw and unrestrained.
You couldn’t help but moan in response, the way he stretched you out and filled you making you feel like you were made for him. Every inch of his cock hit you just right, brushing against that perfect spot that sent shocks of pleasure coursing through your body.
Picking up the pace, you began to bounce on his shaft, your movements growing faster and more frantic. Kylian met your rhythm with thrusts of his own, his hips driving upward to match your descent. You were technically on top, but Kylian’s firm grip on your hips dictated the pace, his control subtle yet undeniable.
“Kylian,” you cried out, throwing your head back as waves of pleasure consumed you.
He raised his head slightly, his eyes dropping to where your bodies were joined. The sight of his cock disappearing into you over and over again made him groan deeply, his hand leaving your hip to find your clit. His fingers worked slow, deliberate circles, the pressure just enough to make your thighs tremble.
He knew your body like no one else, he could find your sweet spot even if he was blindfolded, underwater, and upside down.
“Merde, mon amour. Tu te sens incroyable,” he rasped, his words dripping with pleasure. His breaths were heavy, his moans frequent and raw as he fought to keep himself together.
Your legs began to tremble, the strain of riding him taking its toll. You gripped his shoulders tightly, using them for support as your pace faltered slightly. Kylian, ever in tune with you, took the lead, bucking his hips upward harder and faster.
“Kylian, I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as the tension inside you reached its peak.
“Come for me, angel,” he urged, his voice soft yet commanding. His hand on your clit didn’t relent, his movements calculated to push you over the edge.
You cupped his face with one hand, forcing him to meet your gaze. His dark eyes burned into yours, the intensity between you electric. The connection sent you hurtling into your climax, your body shuddering as waves of pleasure crashed over you.
Your moans mixed with his as Kylian’s hips stuttered, his release following closely behind yours. You felt him twitch inside you as he spilled his load deep within, the sensation prolonging your high. His head fell back against the pillow, his chest heaving as he rode out the last of his orgasm.
The room was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, the air thick with heat and the scent of sex. Kylian’s hands moved from your hips to gently caress your thighs, his touch soothing where it had once been demanding.
You leaned down, your lips brushing against his as you asked playfully, “So, am I forgiven?”
He chuckled, his chest vibrating against yours as he pulled you closer. “I’ll let you know after round two,” he teased, capturing your lips in a deep, messy kiss.
You laughed softly, your forehead resting against his as the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you tangled together in the aftermath of your love.
Summary: Kylian acts different to you when other people are around.
Warnings: cursing, angst, name calling, gaslighting.
A/N: Happy Monday, everyone! Love you all ❤️ I've been away from tumblr and I really missed you and writing. Hope you all are fine 🤍
Turn around." He orders, making you turn to where he is. "I like that outfit." He smiles.
You smile back to him. Looking back again at your reflection to take a last look of yourself. You move to order the things you moved.
"I'm thinking about ordering some wine." He says, kissing the side of your head. "What do you think?"
You nod your head, smiling at him over the reflection of the mirror. Kylian smiles, finishing with the last details of his outfit.
You two take your time, you did your makeup, and he prepared his hair. When you finished, you called him.
"Ready to go?" You ask him, smiling from downstairs.
"Oui, madame." He smiles, walking downstairs to meet you. "A kiss?" You giggle, giving him a kiss. "Your first night in Madrid, I'm so happy." He hugs you tightly, kissing your shoulder.
Kylian and you have been together since the end of 2022. You met when you got hired at Paris Saint Germain as a sports reporter.
You even travel with the French National Team to the World Cup. Kylian needed you there not as a part of the team but as his partner.
He invited you to live with him in Madrid. You told him that you weren't so sure. You wanted to be able to work on the media as a reporter.
He got you a job as a La Liga reporter. You were beginning during the Valladolid vs. Villarreal game. You were so nervous because even tho you speak Spanish, you feel nervous about fucking things up.
"I'm happy too." You hug him. "Let's hurry, I don't want us to lose the reservation." You say, grabbing your bag from the table next to the stairs.
Kylian and you got to the restaurant. He loved the small, private places in Madrid. After all, he didn't want paparazzi or crazy fans to disturb your peace.
You were used to paparazzi and to crazy fans, even when people weren't as used to the two of you as you wanted.
You had to endure the rumors, the critics, the name calling, the people on the internet making fun of you.
It wasn't as easy as you wanted it to be. Being with someone as big as him was a problem. He was focused on football and making sure his team was good, that sometimes he forgot that he had a life outside the field.
When you took the job in Madrid, you made sure that Kylian and you were on the same page about life.
You weren't a child anymore, and the in and out type of relationships weren't your thing anymore. You want security, someone who's ready to take the next step if he needs to.
"I'm nervous about starting tomorrow." You confess to him.
"Why?' He asks, frowning. "Your second language is Spanish. You speak it so well and you have so much experience as a reporter."
"Thank you," you say, grabbing his hand. "I'm just feeling insecure, and I think being nervous isn't helping."
"You did an amazing job at the World Cup, and let me remind you that PSG hired you because of how good you were with the interviews and with the players during your internship."
You smile at him. Getting closer to kiss him. "I have to travel to Valladolid." You smile. "I'm happy about it."
The rest of the dinner was good, you two changed the topic to different ones. It was nice to be back with him and not having to see him over a screen.
When you are back home, you ask him for help with your luggage. "Heels or no heels?" You show him the shoes. "And if yes, pumps or stilettos?"
"Is both an option?" He asks, grabbing a stiletto. "I like this one, tho."
yourusermame
Liked by k.mbappe, laliga and 98,856 others
yourusermame one down and a lot to go.
laliga our new favorite reporter
ethanmbappe need an exclusive? 👀
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km9lover not her calling him croissant boy 😭😭😭
You walk over the big tunnel of the stadium. You and the cameraman were talking about the sound.
"Mister Gonzalez asked for you to interview one of the madrid guys." He says, checking his texts.
"I'll try to get Jude." You say, making him nod.
The game was about to finish, so you needed to be quickly and try to interview Jude. Since he was the one who scored two goals, you need to be quicker than others.
When you made it to the field, you had two minutes left of the extra time the referee gave. You check the audio, and you check your reflection on your phone screen.
The stadium erupts in happiness as the Real Madrid wins. You smile at how the team runs to the field.
You noticed the smile Kylian has. After all the media says about him, you are happy that he has peace and happiness with this win.
"Y/n, here comes Jude."
You nod, standing to the side of the entrance. Jude smiles at you, stopping when you try to talk to him.
"Jude, can you give us an interview? please." You smile at him.
He nods, smiling and walking with you to where the camera is. You ask if the cameraman is ready.
You began interviewing him. Jude is so happy about his two goals, he dedicates them to his parents.
"Thank you, Jude." You smile.
He walks to another group of reporters who wants to interview him. You notice how other players are still on the field.
You interview a player from Barcelona. You feel tired but have to keep a smile on your face for the sake of the interviews.
You go back to the tunnel, saying your goodbye to your team. You text Kylian, asking him if he wants you to wait for him.
He asks you to wait for him outside in the corridor. You wait there, sitting on a bench that's there.
You noticed some players leave, one of them being Jude. "Hey there Missis Reporter." He smiles at you.
"Hi Jude," You stand up to talk to him. "Thank you for the interview. My boss was happy."
"No problem." He giggles. "What are you doing here?" He asks. "Do you need a ride? I can call you an Uber."
You smile at him. You were about to answer when you hear Kylian's voice. "Jude, you forgot this."
He gives Jude a folder of things. Congratulating him for the goals. Jude smiles at him, shy at all the congratulations he's receiving.
"Hey, ready to go?" He asks you. Making you nod.
"Oh, you now her!" He smiles at the two of you. "How do you know each other?"
You were about to answer, but Kylian does it first.
"She was part of the media team at Paris Saint Germain." He says.
You nod, not thinking much of it. "And now I'm here at La Liga."
"That's amazing. Welcome to Madrid." He smiles. "Thank you, Mate. See you around"
You both say goodbye. You two walk to where the cars are. You try to grab Kylian's hand, but he's quicker and grabs his phone.
"Want some sushi?" He asks, showing you on his phone the menu of a restaurant.
"Oui oui, monsieur." You say, intertwining your arm with his. "Maybe some dumplings too." You smile at him.
You enter Kylian's house. You have the groceries you just got. You walk to the kitchen, finding Kylian there.
"Hi." You say.
Your greetings make him turn. He smiles, moving from the wooden stool to get to you. He kisses your cheek.
"I got you all the ingredients to make your shakes in the morning." You say happily.
"You are the best." He says, kissing the top of your nose. "Let's me help you organize."
You two place the groceries while joking around. You love these moments with him. It makes you feel like falling in love again.
"Some friends are coming tonight." He says. "I wanted to ask if you can make us something for dinner."
"Mhm," you say. "Whatever you want, amour."
He smiles, showing you a recipe that he wants you to prepare. You got all the ingredients ready while he was preparing himself.
You prepared enough food for all his friends. Even making time to prepare something for them to have as a dessert.
You heard the doorbell, the maid Kylian hired to help around the house open the door. You hear a very known voice.
"Hola, can I come in?" Camavinga asks.
"Hola, Edu." You say, hugging him. "I missed you around."
"Missed you too. The National Break was hell without you there. The new reporter didn't even knew what to do."
You two make conversation. The doorbell rang again. This time, it was Vini and Jude. They were talking about some match they saw on tv.
You greet Vini while Eduardo greets Jude. You and Vini met before Kylian came to Madrid. They were friends, so he knew you.
"Take a seat in the living room, I'll get some drinks for you." You smile at them. "Kylian is getting ready. He'll be here soon."
They all nod, doing what you told them to do. You serve some drinks, get some snacks on the bowls, and take it to where they are.
Kylian joins them not that long after. They were going to see an NBA game. You didn't wanted to interrupt, so you stayed on the side.
You finish the meal while they are enjoying the game. You were so into the video you are watching that you don't notice someone entering the kitchen until that person clears their throat.
"Hello, interview girl." Jude says.
"Hello, Mister Jude Bellingham." You giggle. "Do you need anything?"
"Can I get more juice?" He asks.
You nod, grabbing his cup and serving him more liquid.
"I thought you were just Kylian's friend." He confess. "Since he introduces you as an ex coworker."
"Well, we don't shout out to the world that we are a couple." You chuckle, passing him his drink.
He nods, understanding. "Isn't it weird to interview him?"
You were about to answer when Kylian entered the kitchen asking you a question. "Amour, can you serve the food?"
You nod at him. Smiling at Jude and excusing yourself to grab the plates that Kylian handed you.
Kylian tells Jude to go sit with the others. He waits for Jude to be out off the kitchen to turn to you.
"Smells so good." He says, getting closer and kissing your lips. "I bet it tastes as good as it looks."
"I hope so." You laugh.
He helps you with taking the plates. Since they were only four people, the two of you were enough to take them out.
"I've been craving the food since I step on this house." Vini says, laughing. "It looks amazing too."
Eduardo and Jude laughed at him. Kylian helps with passing the rest of the things.
"Are you eating with us, Y/n?" Camavinga asks.
"She won't." Kylian says. "She must be tired."
You turn to him, watching him with a confused look on your face. He ignored your eyes.
"Oh, don't be silly, come eat with us." Jude says. "I don't think you only cooked for us and didn't leave a plate for yourself."
"Like I said." Kylian says. "She's tired."
The room got quiet. You look at Kylian with a neutral expression. His response seems agressive.
You smile at them. "I'll bring you guys more drinks." You say after a few moments, moving back to the kitchen.
You took a deep breath, trying to put your best smile. You walk back, the boys are talking back again.
Camavinga looks at you and smiles, posing his hand on your arm, he squish your arm as a way of asking if you were okay.
You nod, understanding what he was trying to do. You grab his arm and squish it in return.
"I'll be upstairs, I'm kind of tired, as Kylian says." You wave them a goodbye.
You can help but notice the face of the boys. Kylian was looking at his phone. He didn't even lift his head or said thank you to you like the others.
You walk upstairs, the feeling of shame grows with every step you take. You try to excuse the behavior by saying it's about the stress he's feeling.
But that wasn't the first time it happened. You just haven't noticed it.
"He's a World Cup champion, and she's a sports reporter who got her job because she's with him." You read what the magazine says.
Melissa scuffs, rolling her eyes at the words that are coming out of your mouth. She can't believe someone took the time to write that and print it for other people to read.
"She's trying to become the new Sara." You say, laughing a little. "Well, I'm not trying to become Georgina but Sara." You laugh.
"I don't know which one is better." Melissa laughs with you, taking the magazine in her hands. "At least they printed a good picture of you."
"That's why I'm forgiving them." You joke. "Yes, they wrote that I'm a gold digger who's using my boyfriend's influence to work in Spain sports media, but on the pictures, I look amazing."
You two laugh, Melissa threw the magazine to the trash as you two walk back inside. You were enjoying a nice hot chocolate.
She prepared two snacks for you to eat while you sit on the couch and talk about life updates you have.
"When are you leaving?"
"I have to cover the Atletico de Madrid game in four hours." You say, checking the time. "And I have to be there two hours before, so in about twenty minutes."
You pick the things with her help. You excuse yourself, going to the room and picking your outfit before taking a shower.
You try to style yourself quickly, you add some natural makeup. It was winter, so you like to use a light blush.
You finish with yourself, walking downstairs and finding Melissa talking with her daughter. "Oh, Lana, you are awake!" You say happily.
She nods at you. Hiding behind her mom, making you and Melissa laugh. "Go before traffic gets worse."
You say your goodbyes to them. Hurrying to the stadium, thankfully, you got a little bit earlier than you needed.
You meet your team, helping them with preparing everything for the pre of the game. You place your mic and your earpiece.
"Mike, I'll go to the bathroom." You say, leaving your things on the side, where your things and the team things are.
You walk over the corridors, saying hi to some of the other news workers. You take your time, noticing how the players are taking theirs.
When you are back, you notice this other reporter. You roll your eyes at the presence of her. She's a bother, and you don't like her.
"I'm back." You say, playing the earpiece and your mic back in place. You check your watch. "Fifteen to get started." You say to them.
You check your makeup one last time, applying more gloss to your lips. You check if your teeth were clean from anything.
"So, did you read what Hola Magazine wrote about you?" She asks.
Your sigh, turning to her with a fake lip smile. "I didn't," you lie. "Why? What did they say?"
"Nothing, just some facts here and there."
You lift your eyebrow, facts?
You were about to answer her, but you shut your mouth. It's better that way. You know she only wants you to react.
They gave you the sign, and you two began talking to the camera. You can separate your personal life from your work life.
You don't care if Alessandra, the reporter, or any other person tells you something about you, you don't mind it.
Of course it made you feel weird. You wouldn't talk about someone the way they talk about you, or even create the rumors people create about you.
You finish with the segment, grabbing your stuff quickly and walking to the corner. You have to write down every possible thing that can help you to interview the players.
To your bad luck, Alessandra was seated next to you. You were hoping for her to be sent to the other side of the field.
You tried your best to ignore her. You don't feel like engaging in a conversation. You don't want to be her friend, and she doesn't want to be yours.
You concentrate on the game in front of you. Patiently waiting for something to happen.
You can't help but be distracted with your phone. Kylian was home, and he was trying to fond something.
You were trying to be quick and explain to him where you put that thing he's looking for. Quickly returning your attention to the game.
"Did you notice that De Paul has his girlfriend here?" She asks you. Pointing at the players' balcony. "She's an influencer."
You scan everybody at the balcony, not really being able to distinguish her away from the others.
"That's cute." You say, not giving too much attention.
"Have you ever been to Kylians' games?"
You nod, looking at the field. "Many."
She scuffs. "I mean, of course you have." She says, funny tone. "But not as a psg reporter, an fff social media person or a la liga reporter, but as his girlfriend."
You then think that you haven't been to any of his games as a girlfriend. You've been there, of course, but you were also working outside the field.
"I have." You lie. "Why?"
"Just curious." She shrugged. "Don't you love when players show off their girlfriends? It's so cute."
You nod, taking notes of an assist that Antoine did. You then look at her and nod again, you don't want to seem rude, even when you want to be.
"I never seen Kylian done that with you." She says, smirking. "If I recall, he has never mentioned you."
You knew that this was coming. Every time you guys had a kind of nice conversation, she had to be shady and threw you a comment about your private life.
"Why would he?" You ask, eyebrow raised. "His private life is only his."
"Oh, I know." She says, pressing a hand to her chest. "I just feel for you. I can't imagine being hide in so cleared light."
You shake your head no. "I'm not hidden."
"I mean, if you say so." She chuckles. "But if I'm honest, I wouldn't be surprised if next season you are not with us anymore."
You were about to answer her, but the referee marked the end of the first half. You excuse yourself, you place the notebook down, grab your bag and walking to the tunnel before the players.
You walk into the bathroom, locking yourself in one. You breathe a few times, trying to calm the urge to drag her by the hair.
You walk out, finding other reporters. You wash your hands and say a quick hi and goodbye to them. You grab your phone, texting Kylian to ask him if he found what he wanted.
He texted you a picture of him with a thumbs up. You reply with a picture of the corridor.
You try your best to keep calm. You don't want to make a scene by telling her to shut up or to mind her business.
You won't fall for that.
You can't help but not be able to concentrate the whole game. Rodrigo De Paul scored a goal, making a hand signal for his new girlfriend.
Something inside of you is making you feel some type of way.
As much as you act as if you are okay with the whole < private but not secret > kind of relationship Kylian wants.
You want to be able to go out and have fun with him at clubs and not be locked in the vip room away from the other people at the club.
You wanted to be able to go to the movies and not have to rent the movie or a whole cinema room for the two of you.
Or maybe be able to not feel like you are doing something wrong when you post about him on your Instagram stories.
You also know that being with him meant not doing a lot of "normal" things that common people do on a daily basis.
Or normal couples, like going to the park to spend a quiet time, you can't go to the mall and just shop around or have a meal without having dozens of people and paparazzi outside, waiting for him.
Sometimes you just want to be able to act like a normal couple and to be seen as something more than just the girl he's hiding.
Not the first time people called you that.
Not the first time people acted as if you were a gold digger who's about to baby trap him into giving you his fortune.
You have accepted that people are going to tell you that.
What you can't seem to accept is that he prefers for you to endorse the comments, hate, and critics over him issuing a statement for people to leave you alone and to stop the comments.
You make yourself believe that is because he's trying to show that others have no power over his private life.
But he has defended different things about that same private life.
Why can't he defend you like that?
You can barely concentrate during the interviews, making general questions instead of the ones you wrote on your notes.
Some of your teammates asked you if you were okay, worried about you looking so down. You blame it on probably coming with a cold.
Your boss told you that you could skip the next game. He didn't want you to work sick and coming with something worse than the cold.
You checked and noticed that the next game you were scheduled for was a Real Sociedad game in five days. This means that you are able to watch the Real Madrid game.
You feel happy, you weren't working and your boyfriend was playing. You will finally be able to see him play as his girlfriend and not as the reporter in the corner of the field.
You can't wait!
You enter your home happy and excited to share the news with Kylian. You left your bag and notebook in the entrance as you walk upstairs to find him.
Melissa and lana were back in Paris, meaning that the only person in the house apart from your boyfriend was Bryce.
"Bonjour!" You say, smiling at him.
He was on his phone, putting it aside when you walked inside. "Bonjour, amour." He says, opening his arms to you.
You close the door behind you and run to the bed. You jump carefully into his arms. "I missed you."
He chuckles, kissing your cheeks. "You saw me a few hours ago."
"I know." You say dramatically, sighing. "But I missed you all day long."
He grabs the back of your neck, bringing you closer. His lips crashed with yours, starting a kiss.
You let it happen for a while, relaxing into his arms. You almost forget about the news you want to share with him.
"Stop." You say between kisses. "I have to tell you something."
"Can it wait?" He asks before going back to your lips.
You shake your head no, "it's good news." You smile, placing your hands on each side of his head and lifting yourself. Now you are siting on top of him.
He places his hands behind his head. "Okay, go on." He says with a smirk on his face.
"My boss gave me good news." You start.
"You are getting promoted?" He asks, teasing you.
"No, I don't think we can get promoted here." You say. "Okay, so the news are-"
"You are covering the next clásico?"
"Well." You think for a second. "They don't even think about the next clásico yet. But, I wanted to say-"
"I'm thinking about the next clásico." He says, almost laughing at your desperation.
He knows that you love to say the good news quickly, so he loves to tease you and interrupt you as much as he can with questions.
"Kylian! Let me spit it out."
"Oh, pardon." He chuckles. "I just thought you like to swallow."
You can't help but blush. "I'm not reacting to that." You say. "I-"
"Oh, amour." He laughs. "Those rosy cheeks already did." He takes on hand from behind his head to your face, squishing your cheeks.
You take his hand into yours. "Let me finish!" You whine. He laughs and nods. "My boss gave me a few days off, meaning I can come to your next game!"
You don't seem to catch it, but his smile fades a little. "Oh, really?"
"Si!" You say. "Aren't you happy?" You ask.
He nods, a lip smile on his face. "I just thought that you might want to relax. You know how tiring games are."
You shake your head no. "I can take it." You say, leaning down to give him a kiss. "I want to see my champ play." You smile at him.
"Are you sure?"
You think he's just teasing you, not giving it mind that deep down, he hopes that you say that he's right and that you'll stay home.
"I mean, I'll need a jersey because I don't know where mine is, but other than that, yes."
He sighs. "I'll get you one tomorrow, I'll also ask for them to give me another ticket."
The tone was flat, not a single drop of excitement. You catch a little bit of that.
"You okay?" You ask, frowning a little.
He nods. "Want me to make you a sandwich?" He asks, changing the subject.
"Mmm, with extra cheese?" You ask.
"With extra love, bébé." He says, using one arm to lift himself with you still in top of him. "Love you."
"I love you more." You kiss him. "Very very much." You smile.
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yourusername 🤍
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k.mbappe 🤍
ethanmbappe Peux-tu répondre à mon texte ? 🙄
kylianwifee finally some wag conent related
km9xvini7 I know 😭 I hope she keeps posting like this
"Do you like it?" You ask him, waiting patiently for his answer.
He shakes his head. "Honestly. No, I don't." He says. Your smile drops, and you are about to get worried, but the way his lips curve in a smile. "I love it."
You smile, giving him a hug. "I made it with so much love." You say, grabbing his face and giving him a kiss.
"You are going to make me fat, a very loved fat footballer." He laughs, pecking your lips. "Did you enjoy the game?" He asks, kissing your forehead.
"I did." You nod, hugging him tighter. "You did amazing, champ." You smile. "I love seeing you play."
You let Kylian finish the food, still hugging him. You let him take his time with the food, and you yourself take some time to carefully caress his face.
You are so I'm love with that man.
"You are an amazing chef." He smiles, his nose bumping yours. "Want to go upstairs and watch your show?" He asks.
You nod, smiling like crazy.
"You have that early meeting tomorrow?"
"Noup, tomorrow is still free." You smile, grabbing the plate and walking to the sink, leaving the plate there. "Why?"
He hugs you from behing, his lips kissing behind your ear. "I just want to spend some time with you?"
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yourusername another day 😋
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meliissagateau get me a signed jersey
yourusername 🤨🤨🤨
ethanmbappe échauffe-toi, tu es le prochain
yourusername tais-toi, croissant
kykswifu9 I need her and kylian to post something together 😭❤️
jude5vini7 I think kylian mentioned before that he wants to keep his relationship away from the media because of how some fans criticize other players' girlfriends or wives
madridgirl23 @jude5vini7 I mean it makes sense 🤷🏻♀️ look at how people react to other players posting their partners, better be safe
You walked back inside the house, it was still early. You had an early game, and you are able to rest before dinner.
"Ky! Are you home?" You ask, leaving your belongings on the table next to the door.
You take the phone out of your purse, you notice that there was no text from Kylian other than the one where he asked you something.
You call him, trying to see if he was maybe out with a friend or up in the bedroom. You got into voice mail, deciding to ring him another time.
You walk into the kitchen, hungry for something sweet. You find the lady who helps you with the cleaning there.
"Hi!" You say to her. "You are here late. Is everything okay?"
She nods. "I was waiting for you." She answers.
"You are so sweet for waiting," you smile at her. "Do you happen to know where Kylian is?"
She nods again. "He left with Mister Tchaga to maybe somewhere important because he was very elegant dressed."
You frown a little bit, he never talked about any gala or anything like that, he even asked you if you wanted take out for dinner earlier in the morning. Maybe she was confused and they went to a party or something last minute.
"Mister Mbappe told his friend that you didn't feel well. Even asked me to wait for you to see if you feel sick when you return from work."
You feel more confused than before. Why would he lie about you? If he thinks that you are not well, maybe he should have asked you directly.
"If you want me to, I can prepare you something." She offers. "I know some remedies my mother used to give my brothers and me. Very effective."
You smile at her. "Gracias, I'll see how my night goes, and if I still feel sick in the morning, I'll let you know."
She nods, saying goodbye to you. You excuse yourself and walk upstairs. You open the door to your shared room and notice two suits.
One was thrown in the bed, and the other one was on the chair next to your bed. You can't help the confusing thoughts.
Did he mention the event?
Did you forget about it?
Did you say no?
You open X, trying to see if you can find any info about what this. It didn't take you that much work because as soon as the app loads, you find a tweet of a fan page.
It was a football gala for The Best. They were getting an invitation because they were getting some kind of awards there and also on the field.
Most of the players, if not all of the ones who have a partner, brought their partner. They were all posing for the cameras.
You feel hurt.
Kylian didn't even care about asking you.
Yes, you had work, but asking wouldn't take more than a few seconds. Plus, the game was at two pm. You stayed more than you should in the stadium because you were free.
If he asked you about it, you could have asked someone to cover for you or left right after the game.
You try to ignore the crying sensation. You need to talk about it with him. Maybe it was a big misunderstanding. Maybe you are exaggerating.
You take a shower, washing the stress you are feeling away. The hot water makes you relax, clear your mind from the names you want to call Kylian.
You do your normal routine. You want to be clean for bed, even tho there was still a long wait before bed, you wanted to rest.
You turn on your favorite show, watching some episodes. But you ended up disassociating into your own thoughts.
You took a little nap, trying to calm your mind from the noise. As people say, a good nap can fix everything.
You wake up, noticing the sun wasn't there anymore, you check your phone and noticed you have a few texts, it was the chauffeur. He sent you a few texts letting you know that he picked food for you per Kylian's request.
You thank him. Leaving the comfort of your sheets and walking downstairs to pick it up. You check the time on your phone 8:17 pm.
You overslept, you originally wanted an hour nap or so, but you don't have to be mad at the rest cause it felt amazing.
You open the bag, checking that it has your favorite food inside, you may be mad at Kylian, but he kind of won the privilege of not getting 1 of the 20 names you have ready for him.
You decide to eat in the kitchen, not wanting to get your sheets dirty. You seat on the big table he picked for the house.
Maybe it's your anger, maybe it's the disappointment, maybe it's just the fact that you now notice things.
But one thing you never noticed was how alone you were in that big cold house.
You had to eat alone most of the times, you have to wake up alone most of the days, you have to sleep alone because he was out or late training in the gym.
You never really made mind of how much it bothered you. Maybe because as you said "it's because he's not a normal person."
You finish the food, taking the containers to the trash. You wash the fork and knife you used, wanting to leave the kitchen as clean as it was before.
You were drying your hands when you hear the front door. You stayed quiet, not wanting to face him when you know Bryce was with him.
They talk a little bit, you can even hear Bryce ask if he knows how you feel.
Mad.
That's how you feel.
You hear them move upstairs, you wait a little bit more, wanting for Bryce to get into the guest room.
When you hear both door closing it when you know you have to get upstairs. You open the door, watching him get out of the closet.
"Hey!" He smiles. "I was looking for you."
You humm, walking to the bathroom and brushing your teeth. You take a few breathes before walking back to the room and get into the covers.
You wait for him to finish his routine. He was happy, you can tell ny the big smile on his face and how he was humming a song.
Before he could reach the sheets with his hand, you talk.
"How was the gala?" You ask, a very monotone voice.
"Amazing, very simple but kind of long." He answers as if nothing is wrong. "How was the game?"
"Why did you tell Bryce that I was sick?" You ask, not answering his question. "Not only I'm not sick but also I'm very mad at the fact that you lied!"
You try to keep your composure. You don't want to yell, you don't want to fight, you just want an explanation.
He stayed quiet, looking at you with a blank expression on his face.
"You are suddenly voiceless?" You ask. "You never told me about any gala, I had to find out via social media what it was." You continue.
"I did." He says.
"Don't." You say with a very stern tone. "You didn't, and you know it."
"I did." He repeats. "You probably didn't pay attention."
"Okay, when did you tell me?" You ask him, trying to prove a point.
"Why are you acting like this?" He asks, rolling his eyes. "I had an amazing day, can you drop it?"
"No, I can't. When did you asked me?"
He hides his face into his hands. "God, you can be annoying." He shout. "Probably like two weeks ago."
"Lies!" You shout back. "I was in Sevilla."
"Then when you came back!"
"You were in Valencia." You say. "You didn't tell me. And that doesn't even matter, what matter here is that you could've told me < Hey, y/n I forgot to tell you about this event, sorry about it> But no, you lie to me and you told your friends and even our maid that I was sick!"
He doesn't answer.
"Why?" You ask. "Why are you doing this?"
He shrug, not putting a little bit of care into it.
"Have you ever noticed that you never took me to any of your galas?" You ask, the sadness in your voice is evident. "Kylian, what is wrong? Talk to me!"
He rolls his eyes again, grabbing the pillow. He was trying to get out of the situation by leaving the room.
"Where are you going?" You ask, throwing the sheets off of you. "You are not leaving until we are done with this conversation, sir." You warn him.
You take the pillow away out of his hands. "Stop that." He says.
"I will, once you and I have a talk." You say, throwing the pillow back on the bed. "I can't keep pretending that everything is fine."
"You don't have to!" He yells. "We are fine."
"How are we fine?" You yell back, not caring about his friend or anything else. "Kylian, you are doing this on purpose."
"You are crazy." He says, walking into the bathroom. He slams the door, leaving you alone. "You are losing your mind!" He yells again.
You try to calm down, you need to have a serious conversation with him, and screaming won't get you to it.
You wait for him to get out of the bathroom. When he sees that you are not giving up, he groans.
"Can you not?" He asks. "You ruined my night."
The way his voice soundes so dark makes you shiver. He didn't even care that what he's doing is hurting you.
"I can say the same thing to you." You say with the same tone. "We can resolve this if you just tell me what the fuck is going on!"
"What do you want me to say?" He asks.
You shake your head. "The truth!"
"I haven't even noticed that you never came to one of my galas, maybe because you are not the center of my focus and attention."
That hurts.
"Okay," you nod. "I just want to know if this is going to continue, because I'm honestly so tired of this shit."
He shakes his head. "I don't know, are you going to keep acting this way?"
"Why am I being blamed?" You ask, angry at his attitude. "Kylian, you are the one who wanted this relationship to be off camera. Yes, I agreed. But I never agreed to being toss aside like if I'm not worth a shit."
You feel your eyes getting teary, you don't want him to say that you are creating a drama or anything. So you clean them quickly.
"I love you," you say to him. "Don't you love me like I do?"
He stays quiet, letting the minutes pass.
You never thought the silence can become so loud to the point that it feels like screams. You understood so much with that passive agressive action.
"Are you ashamed of me?" You ask. "I mean, you meet me as a reporter and you asked me to be your girlfriend when I was working as a reporter. So maybe I'm lost, but I don't get when we got to this point."
"I asked you to leave your work and come with me to Madrid." He says. "But you told me that you wanted to keep working on the media and even suggested a long distance relationship."
"Because I love my job, Kylian." You answer. "Is that a problem? You knew that I wasn't someone who was going to sit around and wait for you to come home with a fresh cooked meal and some fresh ironed clothes."
"Couldn't you just sacrifice something for me?" He asks. "I mean, you have everything here! You have a maid, look at this house and you don't even need to pay anything, not a single bill."
"So you wanted me to just leave my work and become your stay at home girlfriend?" You ask. "Would that be better? Would you be prouder of me?"
"Maybe" He says. The tone of honesty is what hurted the most.
"I worked my ass off since college to get where I am." You began. "Yes, you got me this job, and thank you for that. But if the price I have to pay is that you feel like I'm not good enough, then maybe I do have to change!" You say.
He nods, walking over to you. "I promise you that everything will be worth it." He says, smiling at your quick comprehension. "I'll give you everything you want."
You take a few steps back. "I don't think you understand." You say.
"quoi?"He asks, confused.
"Kylian, I'm not changing my job." You chuckle.
Maybe it was the pain turning into a laughing situation. Maybe it was a coping mechanism.
"Then what are you changing?" He asks, still confused.
summary: when he scores the first hat trick for the new team and you surprise him at the hotel
request: yes!
may contain spelling and translation errors!
Kylian was still feeling the adrenaline running through his body when he left the stadium. A hat-trick. A damn hat-trick. He had never felt so good on the field. From the first goal, I knew that night would be special, but the third... the third was like a dream.
The locker room was a party. The companions mocked, threw water at him, even Ancelloti gave a proud smile. The fans were in ecstasy, and he knew that that was one of those nights that would remain forever in the memory.
But, as incredible as it was, there was something even better waiting for him.
When he finally arrived at the hotel, passing through the lobby still dressed in the team's official costume, he already felt a different anxiety. You hadn't gone to the game, but you texted saying you were waiting for him. His heart beat faster as he climbed the elevator.
Kylian opened the bedroom door and lost his breath at the time.
You were lying on the bed, your skin contrasting with a blue lace nightgown, delicate and at the same time provocative. The fabric embraced its curves in a way that defied any logic. The smile on yout lips was pure charm, pure temptation, and his eyes shone full of intention.
-Congratulations, mon amour.
Your voice came out soft, but with weight.
Your boyfriend locked the door without even looking.
He was still recovering from the impact, trying to absorb the vision in front of him. Your hair fell loose from your shoulders, the legs were shamelessly exposed, and that smile... my God, that smile.
-Did you like my game, ma chérie?
He asked, his voice hoarse in a sexy french, as he approached.
You laughed softly, leaning on your elbows.
-I loved it. You were amazing, Kylian.
He climbed on the bed without hesitation, getting on top of you, his dark eyes fixed on your own.
-And you... -Mbappe slid his fingers down your thigh, climbing slowly. -Is that what you were planning while I was playing?
You bit your lip, your smile growing.
-I wanted to congratulate you in the right way.
He didn't need anything else. His mouth found yours in an intense, hungry, celebratory kiss. The hands were already exploring every piece of exposed skin, the bodies fitting almost desperately. He felt his own heart beating fast, not only because of the adrenaline of the game, but because of the incredible woman who was there, waiting for him, making him the luckiest man in the world.
That night had already been perfect on the field. But now... now it would get even better.
