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cialovesklopp · 11 months

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𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐍 ➺ k.mbappé

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — realizing that one is actually in love is a process being done with your best friends

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — kylian mbappé x amara imani (oc)

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 6.2k

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — actually don't know why this chapter was so difficult to write so i hope it turned out fine. it's kind of a filler chapter but only preparing you for what's about to come also wanna thank my bestie @cl16version for helping me write this chapter, don't think i would have finished without her

mon amour — masterlist

every relationship is built on love and trust. both so different and yet, deep down, are based on the same fundament.

the history of love and its different types went back decades; maybe even centuries. in definition, english literature has found it to be a simple feeling of deep affection and intimacy. but it was also the same english literary, that had given the word « love » a much important, higher meaning.

shakespeare’s romeo and juliet had opened the world to different types of love, erasing the standard of the typical love scenarios known to the world and making place for the difficult and painful ones. but whether it was the most powerful one, had never been known to humans.

were feelings of hatred and disdain turned into passionate feelings stronger than the love, built up on years of friendship? the affection that grew after years of true care for each other? the true kind of love could not find its veritable definition. the connection based on the free will of two people somehow defied physics when it was analyzed deeply.

but trust was not any easier. in fact it turned out to be even harder because how could one person be able to trust another person blindly? when one doesn’t even trust himself, how would one be able to trust another human, with the same flaws as itself?

for amara, love had always been somewhat suspicious to her. the idea of sharing herself to another person, letting that person into the deepest parts of her did not seem very appealing to her. she could never truly let go of her. if you wanted to love her, you had to satisfy yourself with the 90% she allowed you to have. and yet, even with her carefulness and high-alert to it, she had trusted and given 95% of herself.

she couldn’t trust anymore — how could she? not when the additional five percent she had allowed evan to have, had been used against her. he had humiliated her before breaking her heart. the stepping and trashing of it did not help her very much. but the trust she had given away and it had been misused, she would always cry after it.

evan and her had lived in completely different worlds and yet a whisper of media and suddenly they found themselves on the same platform. maybe if she never had gone to that beauty event, he wouldn’t have talked to her. and her so-called friends could have never pushed her to seek after him if they hadn’t been captured by the press. the moment she would have tasted the poison of him — the moment she should read the articles of him and her instead of crushing on him — she would’ve spit him out and left his radar at the first chance she would have got.

she had been naive back then. a child thrown into the celebrity world with no one to guide her, fresh meat for the hungry wolves, just waiting for a weak lamb to stumble upon them. it was clear that he had used her — the young rising star, being thrown into the industry without any knowledge — it was easy to use her. to amara, evan represented the false friend, the crisis of her faith when she had not been sure whether to even accept his invitation.

amara had seen the red flags and deliberately chosen to ignore them — her first mistake. she knew she should have left him when he had started downgrading her but she stayed — her second mistake. another door had opened when she had met his parents and they had undermined her, racist side marks the entire evening and she had taken them all and yet she had stayed. another mistake. there had been so many signs that she had chosen to ignore — simply, because he had made her feel loved, desired. and the bullet had hit her when her safety bubble had burst.

it had never been clear to her what had been her motive. why she couldn’t have just gone on her way instead of blushing and attire his attention. evan had never made it worth staying, amara realized as she looked back even though deep down she knew the reason. why she had never left.

evan had always given her enough to make her stay, ignore the bright red flags and issues he had. she had been young, a fresh adult with no experiences on love. he had realized quickly, he had enough good to make her stay through the bad. to never even question a leave. she endured cheating scandals because he knew how to win her back, he knew how to make the bad outweigh the good for a moment before all began again.

in the end, she celebrated his love and he tolerated it.

she regretted a lot of thing but mostly, the loss of her innocent adult years. where memories used to be things that made her smile and not emotions that could be used as weapon. every touch he had left on her had turned out to be a scar, ugly and dark, carving her for life. she had not planned on trusting again.

and then life introduced her to kylian.

he somehow made the idea of love less disgusting. showed her the kind type of love that also existed. that next to painful and unstable it could also be reassuring and calming. still it wasn’t sufficient for an “us”. and kylian was left, picking up the pieces.

the longer she stayed in her relationship, the smaller the pieces got, her heart breaking so many times, some pieces would never be found again. but kylian had found a solution — he would fill the gaps with love. and somehow it was working and she found herself falling again, the easy part of love.

their relationship was blooming like the first flower fighting her way through after decades of ice growing over its ground. he broke the high walls that had built around her, had formed a security wall. a new bond had been created between them, building and strengthening over their deepness and the easiness of being vulnerable in front of each other.

that they knew where they were standing with each other, made it even easier for amara. she could be open with kylian, there were no overthinkings with him, no contemplating. her relationship with kylian allowed her to be her own true self.

and the changes of it were quickly recognisable, with smiles becoming more and more frequent. gloomy eyes were replaced with bright grins and her eyes were slowly starting to regain their twinkle back, the origin of her success and career.

with kylian waiting for amara to get her trust and confidence back, the singer started to open up more, go back to her old sunshine-self as she had been known as. the balance in her life was restoring, equalizing her career and private life again. and amara could go back to living in bliss, actually experiencing the innocent feeling of amore, she had not been allowed to feel during her time with evan.

she was falling hard like a plane flying straight-down to the ground. the overwhelming rush of emotions flooding her heart, becoming more and more each second she passed with the french striker. the realization had struck her at night, as she had worked on her song, hitting her with the speed of lighting: she was undeniably in love with him.

she was swimming in a sea of emotions, with no shore or land in sight. her eyes viewed kylian in a different light now — he wasn’t the charming footballer anymore, with easygoing and playful character. instead he had upgraded to the man, who had giving her inspiration again. her muse and for amara, this held higher significance than anything else.

how she had ever lived without him, she didn’t know. how could she have made all these days in Paris without the air in her apartment spreading the scent of love and comfort, the certain safety that looked everywhere whenever he was there. she cherished every second spent in his presence, treasuring each moment as if it were a precious gem.

Amara had given kylian everything. she was willing to repeat her mistake, let him have a part of her she had never given away before. all the times she stood in front of the mirror and since the entry of his life, all of sudden she saw herself different. as if she had never seen herself before.

and kylian knew she was scared. he was aware she was hoping to be spared of all this, the process of falling in love again, afraid of all those dark feelings returning from her previous failed relationship. but she wasn’t alone in her feelings. deep down, he was scared too, angst sometimes lurking in his mind as he thought about her and their growing relationship. but just as quickly as those feelings came, they were gone again and it all started to make sense to him again — he would take the leap of faith anytime again.

they would never admit to each other just how much the other meant to them — both afraid to overstep boundaries.

it was the reason why kylian would never know how much it meant to her when he would hold her, press tiny kisses on her temple when they sat down to watch a movie. how it was able to change the way she saw herself when he complimented her. she was willing to give herself to him if he accepted the part of her, she had never let loose before.

and amara would never know, she was the reason, he was being himself again. she would never hold the knowledge that the night they had met, had been for him to grow out of his misery after his own failed relationship. how her messages transferred smiles onto his faces that even his teammates started to grow suspicious.

a certain vulnerability loomed over them, their hearts exposed to the other. and that same vulnerability was covered with soft smiles, silent confessions of love, glimpses into the depths of each others’ souls. love had the power to transform, to shape and create. it was able to bury insecurities, flaws, hatred… love had the power to give new beginnings to old things.

especially in her case, love had given her something so important, it had given her inspiration, a new muse for her music. kylian fitted her in every way possible. even more because he loved her just because she — in his eyes. in his eyes she wasn’t amara imani, and he had fallen in love with her plain self, with her just being amara.

she didn’t need to be more to make his world lighten up, her laugh was enough. and she didn’t need to wear makeup to be the most beautiful girl in the room — she could wear a potato bag and still win miss universe in his opinion.

sometimes even the simplest of loves were the most beautiful ones. the one, where one could see how trust and love were built around moments spent with each other, finding your soulmate, best friend in your loved one. world’s could never describe how this was an entire different feeling from just falling in love. and loving every part, every flaw and still seeing beauty was another different thing.

even to herself, amara couldn’t explain why kylian’s laugh attracted her so much. it could have been his body, after all he was built very well, his face, his status — but no, for amara the most attractive thing on kylian was his smile.

she started to drown out, not even listening anymore but just memorizing his smile to the finest detail. the way, kylian couldn’t help but to laugh before even recounting what had happened that made him burst into laughter like this. she gazed at him with so much love in her eyes, adoration, fondness. his giggles filled the air, tearing all of amara’s attention to them as he recounted with animated gestures. the last thing she remembered was that something funny at training session had happened today but what exactly it was, she didn’t know. by then she had already completely spaced out, staring at kylian instead and his smile.

the time passed with amara and kylian are still lost in each other’s company. they both enjoyed the moments where they did not have to wear a mask, could be completely themselves. they were only amara and kylian with each. two normal persons, trying to navigate their way through life. but of course, they couldn’t escape it forever, time and responsibilities always caught up.

glancing at the clock, she gasped when she saw how late it already was. truthfully, for their standards, it wasn’t really late but she knew kylian had an away match tomorrow and couldn’t afford to be tired there.

“kylian,” she began softly, nudging the french forwards’ shoulder, “it’s late. you need to go.”

“are you trying to get rid of me?” he retorted jokingly, grinning at her.

she rolled her eyes, amusement clear on her face, “never. but you have an away match and i kind of don’t fancy you being benched.”

he gasped, putting a hand on his heart dramatically. “omg, you actually care for me.” he exclaimed, his grin spreading wider when she lightly slapped him neck this time. “but are you actually going to watch my match this weekend?”

“you’re acting as if i haven’t watched your last two matches.” she replied sarcastically.

kylian waved dismissively, “yeah but we lost those. and i’m really sure we’re going to win this one. and, i don’t mean to brag, but i kind of am a big deal so it should be really entertaining.”

amara bursted out laughing, placing a hand in front of her mouth to stop her but it was useless. “sure…,” she trailed off, a mocking tone distinguishable in her voice. “it’s not like i have anything better to do this weekend, no of course not. i can already feel how excited i am to watch you run after a ball for one and a half hours.”

“glad to know this is how you feel about me,” kylian replied, his face scrunching up which made amara laugh even more.

“you should start selling tickets just for people to watch you, not the team but just you.” amara suggested, “it’ll be called the donatello experience, after all you do kind of look like him. but the wish version.” she added, squirming when kylian suddenly started to tickle her.

her laughter rang through the entire apartment, her begs going down in laughs as kylian tickled her all over. it was perfect. this moment was everything her and even were not and for the first time in a long time. amara was not thinking about her worries, the only thing on her mind was kylian - her kylian. she knew that god was a woman, but her favorite angel was definitely kylian.

“you think it’s an insult, i take it as a compliment,” he stated proudly and amara raised her eyebrows, an incredulous expression on her face at his words. “but you know, you’re kind of right. i should definitely start the mbappé experience. i mean after all, who wouldn’t want to see this beauty,” he let a hand run down his face, posing extravagantly which started another small laugh flash of amara.

“people would start reclaiming their money if they spent it to watch you fall every twenty minutes. but what’s money when you can watch the imperialistic, majestic, phenomenal kylian mbappé try to score goals, right?”

“ha ha,” he replied dryly, glaring at the singer in front of him. “aren’t you funny?”

amara smirked, mischievous glint in her eyes, “i know i am. you don’t have to remind me.”

“and people say, i have a big ego,” kylian muttered under his breath, but still loud enough for amara to hear, “they clearly haven’t met you.”

“your ego is bigger than france itself,” amara retorted, “i’m just trying to match your energy.”

“glad we’re on the same page.”

“of course we are. if it wasn’t for me, who would remind you of your frequent moments of mediocrity and knock you off your high horse?” amara explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “i’ll be here, sitting on my couch, cheering you on as i watch you miss a penalty by a mile.”

instead of answering with another sarcastic comment, the french striker stood up and pulled off the blue psg-hoodie he was wearing. amara’s eyes widened as she spotted his abs, clearly visible through the tight white shirt he was wearing beneath. he threw it into amara’s lap without another word, the smell of his cologne immediately picked up by her nose.

“you’re giving me your hoodie? what for? i can easily order myself a psg jersey,” she questioned, looking at him confused.

he shrugged dismissively again, “faut que je encourage mon plus grand supporter, tu ne trouve pas? without whose words, i probably wouldn’t have scored my incoming hattrick.” — don’t you think?

she pulled the sweatshirt closer to her chest and put it on, laughing as she saw how big it was on her body. “aww, thank you. you thought of me. to how many girls have you already given this?”

“none,” kylian replied deadpan, nodding in affirmation when amara raised her eyebrows. “you’re the first.”

“i feel honored, thank you so much. maybe, i’ll sell it on ebay.” she said cheerfully and threw a last glance at the time on her phone. “kylian, you really need to go now if you don’t plan on warming the bench tomorrow.”

he held his hands up in surrender. “d’accord, je m’en vais déjà.” — okay, i’m already leaving

kylian lifted himself up from the sofa, reaching for his belongings. amara quickly put on some slippers and accompanied him to the door, in a way it felt like this was a death march. as if amara would never see him again, which was quite the opposite in reality. they had spent the whole day together, yet it felt like it wasn’t enough. to the two of them not even forever could fill their need for one another, and with kylian going away for a match. their need to be close to each other had never been stronger.

they stood at the door, looking at each other, their regards completely enamored. his hand brushed gently against hers, surroundings entirely drowning out. for some reason, this goodbye felt different. the usual warmth was discernible in his eyes, the smell of his cologne filled the air, intensified this time because of his hoodie that was gracing her body, a comfortable atmosphere laid around them. and yet, neither moved. they were caught in their moment.

it reminded amara of their first meeting, the morning after. when they had been at his apartment and she was in kylian’s position. they would have stayed there too for hours if her phone hadn’t rang. but this time, there were no distractions. it was just the two of them, waiting for the other to make a move and yet neither of the two wanted to disrupt the moment.

he contemplated in his head, mind running high — was this the moment he had longed for? when she would finally make a step forward instead of her three steps back each time something like this happened? all he wanted to do at the moment was to take her head into his palms and press his lips on hers. but he also knew that it wouldn’t be fair towards her.

she needed the time to heal and move forward from her insecurities, her doubts about love. and he had sworn to himself several times to give it to her. he could wait for years, it would be okay. she was the only woman in his thoughts at the moment. they didn’t need to rush. for him, it was the most obvious thing that he liked her in every kind of way. they could be in a room full of diamonds and yet she would still shine the brightest.

he leaned down, close enough to hear amara’s heart beat pound quickly, his lips brushing her skin swiftly as he pressed a soft kiss on her cheek. for a second everything stood still, the earth stopped in its tracks. and it was just them, as the innocent gesture made them both freeze. was it the wrong decision? maybe. was it too soon? maybe. but all kylian could say was he did not regret it.

the kiss did not leave them unbothered. the sensation of his touch, his skin on hers sent shivers down her spine, the spot where he had kissed her burning with heat. and yet she felt a bit of disappointment. a part of her had thought it would have been more, longed for more.

and kylian somehow sensed it. he could feel her bit of disappointment that was going through her. he placed her hands in his, smiling at her fondly, so much love in his gesture, “i know you’re disappointed. but i did not want our first kiss to be a goodbye kiss. i promised myself, i would make our first kiss unforgettable and wait till you’re ready for us.”

as he spoke, how could she be mad at him? when he was that considerate of her feelings; when he was able to read her like an open book? she looked up at him, eyes reflecting every of her emotions that she currently felt and a smile broke out on her lips.

“will you wait forever?”

“if you want me too, i will.”

“you’re too good for me, ky,” amara muttered, still playing with the footballer’s hands.

he shook his head, her smile mirroring on his face, “not too good. just perfect.” he leaned his back towards the wall, watching their reflection in the mirror. “he didn’t deserve you. he never did.”

as they slowly, with lots of reluctance let go of each other’s hands, another atmosphere built up. they didn’t have to say anything, they knew what they thought. next to the warmth and love filling the air, there was also a sense of safety. they felt safe with each other. she wasn’t just amara anymore, the person he fell in love with and wanted to show her his love. she had changed into amara, the person he felt safe with that he loved.

the first time they had been in this situation, the roles were reversed and he had to hold on to the hope of it all, that they would meet again. that she wouldn’t push him back, and she hadn’t. so even though she had never been his, he had lived for her. given things up for her because his sense of amore had been so innocent, so hopeful that their faiths would intertwine.

“so… i can count on you cheering me on from your couch?”

she nodded firmly, “no place i would rather be at that time,” she replied in the same cheerful tone, her soft smile still decorating her face. “by the way, it wouldn’t have been a goodbye kiss,” she added as kylian stepped through the door, her words making the french forward stop and turn around.

“well, this isn’t a goodbye, cherié,” he responded, “just a, see you soon.”

both were grinning widely when amara closed the door behind her. a cocktail of emotions rushed through her, her mind replaying the past few minutes in her head over and over. her hand reached for her cheek, the touch of his lips on her cheek still recent. even as she sat down on the couch, her mind still thought back to the moment they had shared at the door, their step forward.

even kylian couldn’t wipe the smile of his face as he made his way home. he ignored the questionable look from his chauffeur, his mind still thinking back to the moment that had just happened. the soft and gentle kiss he had left on her cheek held much more significance. it was a symbol for their step forward.

𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄:

AMARA: i kind of miss you guys scratch that, i actually miss you so much

LIYAH: this bitch drunk again?

r u drunk again? you’re only emotional when you’re drunk

AMARA: can’t a girl miss her besties

GRACE: nah, she’s definitely drunk we literally talk to each other over the phone every day in case you forgot, i’m your pr-manager

AMARA: choke i’m not drunk i just miss seeing you, it’s been weeks

GRACE: aww, we miss seeing your beautiful face too

GRACE: but she’s kind of right, it’s actually been kind of long since we all saw each other

AMARA: paris is lonely without y’all next girls night out is on me

LIYAH: we’re sorry not everybody can go into hiding immediately

AMARA: acting as if i did this on purpose anyway i’m bored by the way, did you see the article about e*an and his girlfriend at the MTV awards?

LIYAH. i thought we agreed not to talk about this asshole anymore BUT LIKE SAME AND THE WAY THEY’RE SAYING, YOUR THE ONE LEFT BEHIND

GRACE: we can always sue them if you want this was more than just talking about henderson and his new trophy girlfriend they woke up and chose violence

AMARA: it’s the part where they say ‘i pale in comparison to her’ like, i’m sorry my job is not to just sit still and look pretty

LIYAH: that nepo baby has probably never worked even lifted a finger to work for something

GRACE: don’t worry i’ll take care of it and e*an will definitely eat his words “not truly working between us” THAT BITCH

AMARA: his text messages say different but who cares?

GRACE: do me the favour though and don’t go on social media rn, it’s shitty there

LIYAH: gracey’s kind of right, it does look bad at the moment AMARA: dw wasn’t planning to anyway, i’m over it already so liyah, how was fashion week?

LIYAH: great lots of free alcohol and great clothes

AMARA: where was it again?

LIYAH: in the south of france monaco = lots of casinos and alcohol

GRACE: speaking of monaco…

LIYAH: yesssss

AMARA: liyahhhhhhhh

LIYAH: amaraaaaaaaa

AMARA: WHAT’S THIS GRACE JUST SEND ME PRIVATELY? YOU HAVE A NEW MAN? YOU BAGGED CHARLES LECLERC!!!!

GRACE: AND SHE PROBABLY WOULDN’T HAVE TOLD US IF WE DIDN'T ASK AFTER FASHION WEEK

LIYAH: guys….

AMARA:

THIS YOU?

LIYAH: i didn’t know it spread this quick but let me add, his ferrari collection>>>>> and he feeds me pasta everyday

GRACE:

SPILL BITCH

AMARA: yess, we wanna know the deeds how did this shit happen

LIYAH: well, i was supposed to go on blind date but asshole never showed up charles ordered me a bottle of wine and joined me later than, apparently he saw me being sad

GRACE: omgggg

one night stand??

LIYAH: nahhh we went on a few days before he popped the question and he’s literally amazing skilled everywhere

AMARA: damn, girl not even james made you swoon like that

GRACE: she deep in

LIYAH: james could have never let’s not disrespect charles like that james would have never let me drive his pista

AMARA:

PISTA? A FERRARI PISTA

LIYAH: he has a customized one

AMARA:

JEALOUSSSS (don’t you dare quote my song now)

GRACE: but like, how’s it going?

LIYAH: he’s so charming and cute and perfect. i feel like every adjective i try to use does not fit, it’s too good. and his smile — his smile is adorable. especially with his dimples. impossible not to fall for him.”

AMARA:

WE NEED TO MEET HIM ASAP

GRACE: he got our girl down bad

AMARA: she’s actually in love

LIYAH: but like jokes aside, i really like him like him and me are

there are no situationships, no toxic exes it’s perfection — well, more like he’s perfection and brings out the best in me

AMARA: she’s in love let’s hope he doesn’t screw it up like james did.

GRACE: if he does, ferrari red won’t be the only one he’s seeing

AMARA: but we can’t wait to meet him in person

LIYAH: how about we stop talking about my man and focus on the reason, amara’s hyped again

GRACE: YES CAUSE WHY IS THIS BITCH CALLING ME AT TWO O’CLOCK IN THE MORNING

LIYAH: AND DON’T EVEN TRY TO DENY IT WE’VE KNOWN YOU FOR YEARS

GRACE: SPILL THE BEANS

AMARA: don’t know what you’re talking about there’s no one

LIYAH: at least try to sound convincing

we’re your best friends your soul sisters

GRACE: by definition it’s our job to pry into your life

LIYAH: TELL US, WHO GOT YOU DOWN

AMARA: fine so there’s this guy, kylian and we met here

LIYAH: SHE ACTUALLY HAS A MAN

GRACE:

AMARA: not gonna lie my heart is going crazy for him like he is kind of perfect

GRACE: OMGGG WHAT HAS THIS BITCH BEEN KEEPING FROM US

LIYAH: SPILL what’s he like?

AMARA: he’s incredibly talented firstly and his smile could literally light up a room

LIYAH: IT’S GETTING GOOD

AMARA: idk how to describe but like we just click, we don’t have to say anything but immediately understand each other and he’s actually making me laugh and keeps up with my sarcasm

GRACE:

LIYAH: SHE IS DOWN BAD

GRACE: does he know you feel bout him that way?

AMARA: he knows like, we both know that we have feelings but i told him, i’m not ready and he understands that said, he was willing to wait for me

GRACE: KEEP HIM

LIYAH: HE’S PERFECT

GRACE: what does he even look like?

AMARA:

LIYAH: WHO IS THAT? WAIT I THINK I KNOW HIM

GRACE: DAMN AMARA WHAT THE HELL BITCH HOW COULD YOU KEEP HIM FROM US

LIYAH: HE’S THAT PLAYER FROM PSG RIGHT? THE FRENCH STRIKER SCORED THREE GOALS IN THE WC FINAL??

GRACE: A FOOTBALL PLAYER? AMARA??? INCOMING FACETIME CALL:

giggling, amara accepted the call quickly, her smile widening as she stared at her two best friends. her laugh intensified, looking at liyah’s serious face.

“usually, i am the first to veto football players but if he’s anything like what you told us,” liyah trailed off excitingly, “if you don’t go for him, i will personally smack the shit out of you.” liyah threatened jokingly, “that man literally has you smiling like the cheshire cat and—”

“is that his hoodie?” grace cut her off, pointing at the navy blue sweatshirt on amara’s body. their eyes immediately spotted the small number seven, engraved at the top corner of the shirt.

she looked away shyly, nodding and instantly laughing at the shocked faces of her friends. “he gave it to me, sort of support. said that, if i can’t come to his matches, then at least i’ll be supporting him through my phone.”she explained, smiling brightly.

“WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?” grace questioned her incredulously, while liyah was still looking for words to describe the behavior of their friend. “HE IS DOWN FOR YOU.”

“girls, it’s not that easy. i like him, i truly do but things are not the same for me as they were for you and charles.” amara muttered, her smile shining less. “i can’t just go for him.”

their expressions were soft, a certain fondness for their best friend recognizable as they looked at her. liyah spoke first, “if this is because of evan, i can promise you, it’s not going to be like that the next time. this time, we’re here and not those fake, backstabbing snakes. and the moment we see a red flag in kylian, we’ll make sure he never ever plays football again.”

she sighed heavily, hands running frustratingly over her face. “i am a mess at the moment. i can’t even step outside because of this stupid scandal. and he’s kylian, france’s golden boy. he doesn’t deserve to be dragged down because of me.” she confessed, a heavy weight falling off her shoulders.

“amara, the last thing you need to do is think of yourself as a burden.” grace told her in a scolding tone, “kylian is old enough to choose whom he wants to associate himself with. and if chose you, that’s because he likes you. you literally said that he was willing to wait till you were ready to move forward.”

“men like them only come once in a lifetime,” liyah added to support grace’s statement. “and sometimes you just have to trust. don’t take this as me pushing you to get into a relationship but we want you to figure it out. you’re the only one who knows when you’re ready or not and neither your reputation nor your career are going to change that. it’s just you.”

“is it even a good idea for two celebrities to date? i don’t need a repeat of what happened with evan. this thing escalates again and i’m done,” she explained worriedly. “i am trying to rise from the ashes. i can do it once but if this fails, i can’t do it twice. and the risk of it is too high for me.”

amara jumped when suddenly a pillow was thrown towards the camera, rolling her eyes lightly at liyah’s antics. she was known for her way of always overdramatizing everything.

this time was no different.

“mar, honestly i don’t really know if kylian is the right guy. the only thing I know though is that he cares. and maybe he’s not the right person. but at least you’ll have tried.” grace assured her, smiling softly at her while liyah held her thumbs up. “sometimes you have to kiss several frogs to find your prince.”

“you’ve got no idea how thankful i am for this,” she replied thankfully, accepting grace’s advice. “truly do not know where i would be without you two.”

standing up from the sofa, she rummaged through her notebooks till she found the one she had opened recently and wrote her newest song down. she brought it back to her place, sitting down again and listening to her two best friends talk as she edited her lyrics. she must have spaced out very quickly since suddenly, a high pitched scream was heard through her phone.

“OMG, SHE’S WRITING!” liyah exclaimed, making amara look up in shock. she was met with a gleeful expression on liyah’s face, looking at the camera and a similar looking one on grace. “NEW MUSIC IS COMING!”

grace shook her head at liyah even though they were used to it by now. “is that the project you told me about? the one from two o’clock in the morning?”

amara gave a nod and smiled at the excitement in her friends’ faces. “songwriting is on again, i guess.”

“you said, you were taking a pause.”

“no, i was just in a slump because of my mediocre second album,” amara objected quickly, “but now i’m high on motivation again and i’m keen on beating those critics and haters, who called me forgettable.”

“is the song already finished?” grace asked her curiously. “do you want me to arrange something for recording or?”

amara closed the small notebook, placing it on the table in front of her. “no, i want to write several ones before i even think of going to the studio. like i said, this time i need to exceed. not just reach my expectation but exceed them. and i’m going to do that.”

“damn, where’s the inspiration coming from?” liyah exclaimed.

amara smirked, mischievous glint apparent in her eyes. “he gave it to me.”

𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄:

AMARA: kylian? u awake?

KYLIAN: always

AMARA: i actually wrote a song today

KYLIAN: it’s mine right?

AMARA: score a goal for me and we’ll see

KYLIAN: this is torture

AMARA: writing a song is not for everyone takes time and patience not that you’d know

KYLIAN: can i at least know what it’s about?

AMARA: about a certain football player who thinks he’s the best in world and needs to be humbled with a disstrack

KYLIAN:

a disstrack? when have i ever offended you

AMARA: i rate constantly stealing my food as a crime by the way, shouldn’t you be asleep right now you have a match tomorrow

KYLIAN: one we’ll easily win

AMARA: boy, you’re not man city get off your high horse

KYLIAN: your ego is just as bad as mine i never even asked you what’s your favorite team?

AMARA: olympique marseille a shame, they’re always losing in classicos

KYLIAN: fr now

AMARA: liverpool fc ynwa always cheers me up and now go to sleep before i block you i expect a hat-trick tomorrow

KYLIAN: i’ll even score four if that makes you happier

AMARA: don’t tempt me mbappé

KYLIAN: don’t block me pls

AMARA: then go to bed

KYLIAN: fine maman

AMARA:

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freshfraise · 11 months

Text

ALL OR NOTHING - TWO

pairing: kylian mbappe x reader

summary: Childhood sweethearts. After a tearful, transformative departure at just 19, four years pass by. And now, at 23, you are being forced to awkwardly reunite with your ex-boyfriend to fulfill your dreaded journalistic duties.

authors note: heyyyy… heyy.. how y'all doin.. 😭😭 guys i can’t even explain how sorry i am!!! exams have killed me…. two more weeks and i’ll be done!!!!!! anyways enjoy and im publishing chap three tonight lol.. love love you guys and forgive me s'il te plait

previous chapter here

2022 | LONDON, SOHO

You were startled by the view of a disturbingly familiar bedroom. Your tight curls laid pressed against a luxurious satin pillowcase, and an oversized shirt stuck against your perspiring skin. Before you could even wholly register the circumstance you were in, a tall figure bursts into the room. Intrigue floods your mind.

“Kylian?” You questioned, as he walked in topless, with a flimsy white towel draped around his V-line. You sat up against the headboard, beginning to process where you were. For a reason you couldn’t quite comprehend, you were back in Kylian’s studio. Despite your confusion, your heart felt at ease, unphased by the absurdities of your surroundings.

Kylian didn’t respond, as he approached you nonchalantly.

He sat upon the fresh white sheets, eyes drooping to your plump lips. His ample lips parted slightly, moist as morning dew. His slender hands cupped the side of your jaw, caressing your tender skin. Every breath he took delicately brushed against your long eyelashes. Your eyes widened, perplexed - but not opposed - at what was truly about to occur. His lips grazed yours, hovering and provoking your eagerness. You leaned forward instinctively, inching closer before he dipped back, connecting your foreheads instead of your mouth. Open mouth breaths tickled your spine, as his head dropped to your shoulder. Your back arched as he peppered ginger kisses upon your collar bone. You picked up his head, and stared into him. Kylian stared back vehemently, triggering your erratic breathing. His eyes introspectively scanned the entirety of your face. He dipped his clenched jaw, pressing his lips against yours. Hot breaths and trapped moans escaped your lips as Kylian nibbled and suspired into you. Blissfully, your eyebrows knitted together and your cheeks burned at the sensation. His hands roamed across your face, attempting to keep you as close as possible. Veined hands were placed into the curve of your neck, whilst your arms were draped around his shoulders, leaving you to intertwine your fingers behind him.

He broke apart from your swollen lips, and breathily uttered one word.

“Y/N.”

The blaring of an rambunctious ringtone sounds through your ears.

Your eyes shoot open, facing your ceiling. Your chest heaves, falling up and down intensely. You place your hand on your tight chest, hoping to transfer some frigidity to cool you down.

What the fuck just happened? Why the fuck am I- You think to yourself. Glimpses of your audacious dream overwhelm your thoughts for the next five minutes, leaving you to reflect in solitude. You were more disturbed than anything, trying to decipher any cause or trigger.

Before your body allows you to fully process your dream, your phone pings, alerting you of a new message.

Boss:

Morning Y/N. Your train is in three hours so I hope you’re up and ready. Please prepare to be in Paris for a couple weeks, as I’ve managed to get a great deal. For the next couple weeks you will be interviewing PSG players on the relationship between the club and their supporters, the bonds between players, and seeing how this influences gameplay. You will also be communicating with PSG’s coach, watching training sessions and suggesting team bonding exercises etc. Your hotel details and stadium passes will be emailed to you. Don’t be late and remember my requests. Enjoy. But not too much.

Your legs hang out from the side of your bed and you exasperate deeply. You get up swiftly, wary of the time you have left, and throw any promising outfits into your suitcase, toiletries and some other travel and work essentials. You plop back onto your bed once you're finished, landing with a slight bounce. Chills tickle your spine, reminding you of your lascivious dream. You decide to push this into the very back of your mind, because you already couldn’t imagine how you'll function when you see him and you’re sure those lewd thoughts won’t help in the slightest. You quickly make your way to the bathroom, and face your mirror. You take in your appearance and wince at your visible fatigue. You had some work to do.

You went for a business casual look, as although you had an interview to perform, you also had a lengthy three hour train ride. You adorned a fitted black turtleneck dress that reached your knees. You were wearing two gold necklaces layered upon each other, one being a chain and the other being a necklace he gave to you. It used to have his initials but, since you liked the necklace so much and didn’t want to embarrass yourself, you unclipped the charm and wore it bare. You knew you should’ve gotten rid of it the minute you parted ways, but for a reason you can’t come to terms with, you couldn't. Your hair is parted in the middle of your symmetrical face, your bouncy coils reaching your shoulders. Blush and brown lip liner was flawlessly applied upon your face. You knew you looked good.

You leave your apartment after triple locking and glide your suitcase across the train station floor. A flaky croissant is clutched in one of your hands, and you’re sure that illustrious crescent shape was entirely deformed. You speed walk, determined to make it on time, driven by the rhythmic pattern of your heeled boots against the floor.

After three coffees and a dozen different announcements, you’re sitting in your train seat, one step closer to arriving in Paris. You nibbled on the inside of your cheek, as anxiety began to creep up on all of your senses yet again. You battle the urge to puke by gurgling a complimentary bottle of water, helping your breathing regulate. You dab any signs of perspiration on your face with a napkin, and blink away any fuzziness. ‘I’m going to be fine.’ was the mantra that you repeated to yourself again, and again.

“Not much could’ve changed in four years, right?” You whisper quietly under your breath, so much so that you’re not even sure if it wasn’t just a thought.

At this point, you were feeding yourself lies to make yourself feel better, but it wasn’t even working. You knew everything changed. He was engaged to another woman, and the thought of him getting down on one knee made you feel sick - not with envy, but betrayal. You couldn’t help but feel this unjustified feeling of betrayal. No matter how hard you tried to wash it down, it left a weird aftertaste in your mouth, like an expired piece of poultry. It was insane to you how there was a point in your life with Kylian where you would tell each other everything. Even during your awkward teen years, where everyone your age suddenly became hyper aware of every interaction with the opposite gender, you and Kylian remained closer than ever, revealing the deepest secrets a 15 year old Y/N and Kylian could possibly attain. You knew you broke up with him, and you both agreed to cut communication for the unforeseeable future, but after all, you didn’t expect him to get down on one knee, at least not yet. But that wasn’t your concern anymore, you knew what you would do. You were here to do your job, and ignore him as much as humanly possible, then you would return back to the UK, write up your article and reap the rewards. You release a sigh of contentment at the thought, and loosen up as the train moves.

Your train comes to an abrupt halt, quickly you make your way off the train and get into the taxi that has been waiting. Barely anytime to waste, you’re sitting down in the back of the black cab. You make small conversations with the taxi driver in french, grateful to have the chance to speak your mother tongue again. You leave your bags in the car, as you were informed it would be the same taxi to pick you up. Once the friendly conversation begins to fall flat, you check your email once again and rehearse the questions that were prepared on the train. Before you know it you’re outside the Parc des Princes. Easily getting in with the exclusive stadium passes, you walk with intention embedded into your every step. You knew the Parc des Princes was big, but you forgot just how colossal the stadium truly was.

You step onto the freshly cut moss green, and make your way down the sidelines of the pitch. You scan the area quickly, and no players are anywhere to be seen. You sigh outwardly in relief, knowing this means Kylian is also nowhere to be seen. You sit down in the area designated for journalists. You looked around, only seeing a couple old men and bulky cameras in your vision. You heave, as the chance to make friends was eliminated from your thoughts. ‘This was going to be a very lonely trip’ you thought to yourself.

“Olá!” A jovial man calls out, interrupting your train of thought. He limps towards you with a visible knee brace. Taking a quick glance at his tattoos and curly brown hair, you immediately put two and two together and realised it’s Neymar calling out to you. You instinctively grin, the smile alone giving its own reply.

“You’re with me?” Neymar asks, with a slight tilt of his head. This leaves you confused for a moment, before realising he's talking about the interview. You realise you must’ve quickly glanced over this part in the email, and you quickly whip out your phone to double check the very first name you see. You adjusted your name tag, and stood up.

“Yes, I am,” You confirm with a simper plastered on your face. He puts his hand out and you shake it cordially. He nods, smiling genially. “Where should we go?”

“I don’t mind. There?” He suggests, pointing to the empty side of the stadium where the seats were painted red and blue. You smile, nodding, as you both make your way towards the seats. You both almost trip at the tight spaces between the seats, Neymar held back by his injury, and you, because of your natural clumsiness. Thankfully, you were both there to graciously keep each other upright. You both laugh at your miserable efforts like two old friends, before finally reaching the empty area.

You briefly explain your article’s topic, and try to make the atmosphere as comfortable as possible. After a successful round of questioning, you wave Neymar goodbye and scribble down some notes linking to your article, trying to make things easy for your future self. You check your phone, properly viewing the list so you could prepare yourself appropriately for whoever is next. You were aware that you would interview at least two players a day, due to the busy nature of PSG, so you hoped you could continue the pleasantries until the end of the day. You open your phone, and carefully read through the email you once skimmed through. You glance at the names one more time, ensuring you read correctly.

NEYMAR JR - 45 MINUTES

KYLIAN MBAPPE - 45 MINUTES

You sigh deeply, cursing to yourself in both a mix of English and french. You knew it was coming but you hoped it wouldn't be this soon. You thought you could at least prepare yourself for arguably the most awkward reunion of your life, but it was too late. You shake your worries out of your mind and begin to make your way to the bathroom.

You’re confused. You wander down a hallway squinting at miniscule signs in the corner of the blue ceilings, trying to look for any sort of direction to the toilets. You probably look insane, rushing through hallways with a distinctively clueless expression plastered on your face, but you needed to go. Your nerves translated into a burning urge to pee, an urge that you couldn’t hold in for another hour or so. You see a stick figure plastered on a door, and burst into it, in the hopes that it meant a bathroom. You couldn’t believe how puzzling the journey to the bathroom was.

“Qui est la jolie journaliste dans le vestiaire?” (Who is this pretty journalist in the changing room?)

You hear a dozen brazen remarks before you can even process your surroundings. You look up to about fifteen different pairs of eyes staring you down like a piece of meat. Fuck, you think to yourself. You freeze, your body not even allowing you to process the wave of embarrassment just yet. Your mouth opens and closes, struggling to formulate a sentence as your hands get sweaty, making you wipe them on the material of your dress; the one you became extremely self aware in, as you felt post-game, sweaty, triumphant and not to forget, half-naked men, look at you with mixed faces of irritation and surprise.

You finally switch on, making your way out swiftly and stating “Je suis vraiment désolé.” as many times as humanly possible, in the most flurried french accent imaginable. You just couldn’t believe that this was your life for the next couple weeks, and this is the way that you would start it. You blow out long breaths of air and shake your head in disbelief as you reach the toilets, directly opposite of the changing rooms. As you place your hand on the frigid steel doorknob, the hairs on your arm stand up for no apparent reason.

“Y/N?”

next chapter here

taglist:@aechii @kylians-world @mrs-bellingham @imjellyjenny @xjval

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