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freshfraise · 11 months

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ALL OR NOTHING - THREE

pairing: kylian mbappé 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: HIIII AGAINN!!! i just want to say a quick thank you for all the love you guys have given me over all or nothing despite having to wait so long. hopefully these two chapters can keep you fed whilst i finish up chapter 4, (i won't make you wait 500 years for the next chapter i promise!!) i have so much in store,, anyways enjoy <33

previous chapter here

“Y/N?”

That voice. A voice you knew all too well. A voice that evoked the feeling of sweet nothings, sticky fingers, infectious grins, tears, cocoa and comfort. Genuine serenity, the type that made your heart slow a couple beats and your eyes shut longer. That voice. It reminded you of everything good and all the bad that shortly followed.

You turned hesitantly, facing him from the other side of the room. It was you and him. The passers-by in the hallway are all too consumed with work, or too stressed to notice the look that you’re giving each other. You lock eyes. He’s clearly still recovering from an intense match, it was visible. His socks are stained with muddy debris, one hand holding his defaced cleats, his chest slick with sweat as he hangs his shirt on the back of his shoulder. He’s changed a startling amount since you last saw him. His face matured, as you inspect the way he grew into his features. His dimples still popped out with every contortion, and his eyes still were downturned with big brown pupils. Your breathing was hollow.

The confusion on his face was evident but somehow you could still make out a speck of relief. Slowly, he inches towards you, crossing the invisible boundary. Your instinct pushes you to step back into the bathroom behind you, essentially hiding away from him. You try to catch a breath alone, but your solitude is quickly disturbed as he enters without a care in the world. You internally thanked yourself for choosing the one bathroom with only one stall.

“You can’t-”

“Hi.” He breathes out, watching every part of you, almost as if he was unsure whether you were real or not. He keeps a glare on you as his breath catches in his throat.

His eyes introspectively scanned the entirety of your face.

You couldn’t speak. Your dehydrated throat becomes a physical nuisance. Your head throbs, the images of your early morning dream disturbing your functionality.

“Shirt.” You squeak out. You regret the one syllable that flew out of your mouth as soon as you uttered it. You think of how this looks, you and an engaged, shirtless Kylian Mbappé squeezed into a bathroom stall.

He glances down to his torso, grabs the shirt laying on his shoulder before pulling it over his head in one swift motion.

“I-”

“How are-”

You both pause at your joint state of haste. A small simper creeps up on Kylian’s face as you shut your eyes and shake your head in a bashful manner.

“You first.” Kylian says, as a coy smirk creeps up onto his face. You look up at him, taking note of that.

“I’m with you.” You state blankly, and Kylian’s eyes pop out of his head. You giggle quietly, realising how he completely misinterpreted your sentence. “No, as in, I'm with you for the interview.” Unbeknownst to you, his heart jumps at the sweet sound of your joy. He sounds an ‘O’, nodding his head in realisation. You try your hardest to bite back your laugh, cautious to not create any false impressions between you two. You were here for work and you’re sure he was getting married soon. You wondered when or if he was going to tell you, or whether you should bring it up. You wondered what else he could be hiding and whether he would bring that up too.

“You okay?” Kylian asks. This makes you furrow your eyebrows, posing the question of whether you were thinking out loud again.

“You didn’t say anything, you just have this look on your face when you’re overthinking stuff.” He declares whilst unintentionally answering your question. Kylian knew all of your facial expressions and what they meant; flared nose and squinted eyes typically meant annoyance whereas wide eyes and pinched lips meant admiration. He’s known them since you were both just a pair of moody children, and he’s sure he’ll never forget. He doesn’t want to anyways. Another amiable smile is plastered onto Kylian’s face, which swiftly reminds you of the lack of time.

“We need to do this interview. Like right now.” You blurt out quickly, wary of your time limits. Kylian’s eyes droop down to your neck, glancing over the gold necklaces. He squints at one of them, trying to figure out why he felt so drawn to one of them. You gulped harshly and hoped he wouldn’t ask any questions.

“Kylian-” The rest of your sentence faded out in his ears. Your sweet voice warmed him. It also sped up his train of thought. It's been four years since you’ve said his name. Four years without your unforgettable intonation. 1460 days without you.

“How are you?” Kylian asks again, his head turning with intrigue. You sigh discreetly. “If you’re worried about the timing, don’t be. I’ll sort everything out.” He states, answering your concerns.

You roll your eyes at his nonchalance. That’s one thing about him that always puzzled you. His ability to stay absolutely chill in every single circumstance, whereas you lost your mind at the mere thought of a stressful outcome. It was a good dynamic for you two. You couldn’t imagine having a boyfriend that was always just as stressed as you were.

“You know what? I’m feeling quite sad right now Kylian.” You declare, frowning to keep your statement believable. “And do you know what would make me feel better? Doing this interview with me, so I can go back to my hotel room and take a nap. A nap. That’s all I ask for.”

Kylian sighs, wiping off all the concern of his face. “T’es vraiment chiant.” (You’re really annoying.)

You let out a smirk at his blank face without a second thought. “On y va?” (Let’s go?) You question, as you both make your way out of the bathroom, and walk towards the pitch, walking through the tunnels. It’s silent as you begin to walk. You’re both very careful not to cross any boundaries. The two of you tread carefully, opening and closing your mouths at the attempt of sparking conversation to try and block out the deafening silence. Kylian succumbs first, piecing together a string of words.

“You know, when I first saw your name. I thought, what are the chances? There was no way it could be you.”

“Until I walked into your changing rooms.”

“Until you walked into the changing rooms.”

You sigh deeply, as you walk alongside him. Every breath you let out is coated with utter embarrassment.

“Let’s just forget that ever happened.”

“Forget what?” He replies predictably, looking down towards you with a smirk.

You shake your head and make your way towards the stands, close to where you and Neymar were previously, but you opted to stay closer to other people. A seat between you two acts as a barrier, as you prepare your questions. You quickly scan them on your phone, mentally preparing yourself for the interview ahead. You begin, leading with the topic of leadership within the team. But, the whole interview your eyes are locked onto your phone screen rather than your interviewee. You felt his eyes burn into you, so instead you made the wise decision to ignore any form of eye contact in case you got distracted. You grew coy in his presence, making your voice hushed. At certain moments, Kylian leaned forward to hear you, completely entrancing you with his evocative scent. After a few more questions and insightful answers, you cut the interview short, afraid of completely getting off track.

You both get up, making your way towards the tunnels.

“Thanks.” You thank Kylian for a great interview, smiling gently.

“It’s nothing. I didn’t do much. Thanks for your questions.” Kylian replies with a smile, redirecting the praise from him and onto you. You laugh at his inability to accept a compliment, looking up at him. He laughs staring back at you, before he pauses.

“Y/N-”

Kylian is cut off from the loud ping of a text message. You make an apologetic look and unlock your phone, viewing a message from your boss checking if everything is going smoothly. This reminds you of his request. You internally cringe at the thought of asking.

“What is it?” Kylian asks, noticing your sudden silence.

“My boss- he’s a big fan- honestly you don't have to-”

“He wants a signature?” Kylian finishes your sentence, laughing at your hesitation. You nod shamefully, embarrassed at asking your ex for a signature. “Honestly it’s fine-” Kylian pauses mid sentence, as if a new idea just popped into his head. You can physically see a smirk grow on his face. “Actually, you know what? Earn it.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as a scoff leaves your mouth, “Excuse me?”

“Earn it. Come to my studio to receive it.”

“Really Kylian? You can’t be serious?” You say, laughing.

“I don't think I’ve ever been more serious.” He replies, staring you dead in the eyes with his arms crossed. “See you later.” He walks off into the tunnel, leaving you shocked, your mouth wide open. The nerve of this guy, you thought to yourself, sighing at the extra work you have to now endure. His studio?

“Bold of you to assume I remember where your studio is.” You call out to him, dropping your hands down to your sides in puzzlement.

“We both know you remember.” He turns back around with a smirk plastered on his face, as he turns, leaving the hallway.

And as much as you hated to admit, you still remembered.

next chapter here

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

second authors note: omg i have to say this chapter was really scary to post, especially since it was their first meeting... i wanted to keep that element of banter as they aren't exactly strangers to each other and literally grew up teasing each other, but also a little bit of distance. anyways tell me ur thoughts and once again i am so sorry :)

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freshfraise · 11 months

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ALL OR NOTHING - TWO

pairing: kylian mbappe x reader

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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freshfraise · 11 months

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I'm a grown woman with a job , i don't even like the whole y/n concept , tell me why I've been checking every day for the all or nothing update , girl you're so talented , also you're killing me 😭😭🥺🥺 give us that chapter ,no need to proof read 🥺😗😗

OMG!!!! 😭😭 ily and im releasing two chapters tonight pls forgive me 🫶🏾🫶🏾

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freshfraise · 1 year

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pt 2 is coming vv soon… stay with me

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freshfraise · 1 year

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👀.

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freshfraise · 1 year

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ALL OR NOTHING - ONE

pairing: kylian mbappé x reader

authors note: this chapter is essentially the build up to when they meet again next chapter, so bear with me :)) thank you for all the love and comment if you want to be in the tag list!

previous chapter here

2022 | LONDON, SOHO

You shake off your nerves as you enter your boss's office. You were specifically called over, which was extremely rare for a journalist of your level. Sympathetic glances are shot over from your colleagues, having you anticipate the worst. You wrap your trembling digits around the frigid doorknob and heave deeply.

“I’m removing you from Educational Journalism and switching you to a different sector.” Your boss declares bluntly, barely leaving any time for your feet to be firmly planted on the floor.

“Wh-”

“I believe your writing is better fit for a more riveting sector than Education. Something along the lines of Entertainment and Sports.” He continues, blocking out any sort of inquiry you may have. The word Sports rings in your head. It was only just four years ago. Four years ago since you last saw him. Of course, you saw the odd headline of him or a trending hashtag/tweet debating just how good of a player he is, but you made it your (extremely difficult) mission to ignore and block out as much as possible of your ridiculously illustrious ex-boyfriend. You prayed that your boss would lean more into the entertainment sector, as you definitely wouldn’t mind interviewing and writing about celebrities and media around the world.

“Okay well, is there any sort of training I need to take before I start?” You question quickly, wary that you would be cut off again.

“Your writing is just what we need, so no, none at all. In fact, you have a train to Paris booked for 7:45 am tomorrow, as you’ll be interviewing a popular football team at their stadium. I’ll confirm more details in the morning.” The ringing in your ears grows louder, almost deafening. Suddenly, your trembling fingers become slick with perspiration and your tongue abnormally scratchy. There’s no way, what are the odds? you think to yourself. Your breathing becomes more hollow and rapid, now audible.

“Ms. Y/L/N? Are-”

You interrupt this time, (unintentionally, but nonetheless it felt good). “Is this confirmed? Is there any way to deny this? I have a lot of things going on-”

“Y/N, this job is highly sought after, so the fact you’re even considering denying this job is very telling of your dedication to your role.” Your boss reprimands, making you purse your lips in shame. “And, yes it is very much confirmed, both the train ticket and the interviews. I get it, it’s normal to get scared and anxious when meeting celebrities of such calibre, but, you’re a journalist and this is a part of your job. Paris Saint Germain is one of-” Your boss’s voice fades out in the abundance of thoughts swirling around in your throbbing head. Now, you’re regretting a lot of things. You’re regretting not keeping in touch, which would probably drastically reduce the levels of anxiety you’re feeling but also your insistence on keeping your relationship with him private, because if it wasn’t, maybe your boss would understand how uncomfortable this situation is. Although, it did save you a swarm of hate comments and death threats.

You tune back into your boss’s ongoing rant, “-I, myself, am a fan of PSG, so if you could maybe get a signature or two from a couple players, that would be great.” He suggests, voice evident of enthusiasm. You roll your eyes subtly before heading your way out of the office.

“Oh, Y/N?” He calls out, making you turn back promptly. “A signature from Mbappé in particular.” He comments, a small smile on his face. You pinch your eyelids shut and nod, already embarrassed at the thought of asking your Ex best friend/boy friend for a signature.

---

On the tiresome commute home, you take advantage of the empty bus and call your best friend to communicate your uneasy thoughts.

“Imani, should I quit?” You ask, slouched in your seat, head facing the bus ceiling. One of the first and only friends you made in London, Imani is the only person outside of your immediate family that knows of your past relations with the footballer. Initially, she thought that it was a very well thought out prank, before realising that it was, in fact real and ended up screaming down the phone at you in bewilderment, leaving you to explain the extensive history of Y/N and the Mbappé.

“Girl, you have bills to pay. So delete that from your options,” She states bluntly, earning a hearty chuckle from you. “Unless,” She says, dragging out the ‘S’.

“Unless what?”

“Unless you get back together with him, that financial burden is lifted off your shoulders, and I can become WAG adjacent again! Win win for all of us!”

“Imani.” You say exasperated.

“I’m kidding. Kinda. If I’m being honest, I still don’t understand why you broke up with him. You guys were so cute.”

“First of all, It was mutual. Kinda.” You recall the series of events, remembering your desolation and ache. You bite your lower lip, not liking to think too much about the feelings that day.

“Yeah mutual, yet he was begging for you not to leave him.” Imani responds, making you giggle quietly at her cut throat attitude.

“That wasn’t funny.” You say blankly, not giving her the satisfaction of making you laugh. “Plus, that was years ago, he probably has a girlfriend now.” The thought scans your mind briefly, leaving you to ponder.

“I love you, and I don’t want to be with anyone else but you, Y/N."

“You know what that means.” Imani declares, interrupting your train of thought.

“Late night stalking session?” “Late night stalking sesh.” Imani affirms. A late night stalking session, consists of one dedicated hour to finding out everything, ever imaginable about a possible romantic interest. In this case, a past romantic interest. This should be easy, you think to yourself, due to his famed status.

After a long journey home and sixty fatiguing, extensive minutes of harassing online search engines, you and Imani concluded two things:

Ethan has grown a lot since you last saw him.

Kylian, as a matter of fact, does have a girlfriend, who apparently, he’s engaged to.

---

taglist: @aechii

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freshfraise · 1 year

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hiiii <333 I just wanted to tell you the the prologue of your new story is sooo good I can’t wait for all the angst (and hopefully fluff 👀). I love your writing and I hope the next chapter will be out soon. Lots of loveeee 💘💘

i could cry,,, comments like these make my day <333 thank you so much for your support and a new chapter should be out vv soon!! 🤍

lots of love - tee

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freshfraise · 1 year

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just a heads up, bondy is not in paris haha

omg thank you, i wasn’t too sure, so i just assumed😭 appreciate u

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freshfraise · 1 year

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ALL OR NOTHING - PROLOGUE

pairing: kylian mbappé x reader

author’s note: AHHHH!! i’m so excited to carry out this series honestly,,, this first chapter is a bit of insight of y/n and ky’s relationships <3333 first time writing angst also so… 🫣 give me feedback!! enjoy <3

2018 | BONDY

“I’m done.”

You stated, as a saline tear slips out from your eye. As the tear crossed your frigid cheek and seeped into your mouth, it painfully affirmed your dread. Your gaze is stuck to the floor, tracing out patterns with weeping eyes. You realised everything too late, too late for reconciliation or any broken apologies. After the renowned World Cup win a couple months ago, the dynamic between you and Kylian changed. It felt like you two were in two completely different universes, attempting to find a common ground. It just wasn’t feasible. You felt neglected, and he once knew how much you despised feeling needy. You hated begging your boyfriend to talk to you for a couple minutes or to kiss you for a few seconds.

You were sat at the kitchen island, as Kylian stood in front of you, grasping your hands and scanning your solemn face intently, attempting to decipher the magnitude of your statement. Just minutes prior, you called him here to discuss something dire, not expecting yourself to be capable of wholly following through afterwards.

“Wh- What?” Kylian stuttered, clearly confused at your revelation. One hand left your right hand’s grasp, and squeezed your forearm fondly. The other hand, cupped your chin, picking up your jaw and forcing your irises to connect with his. You could barely make out his face with tears clouding your vision, but in spite of that, you could still make out a distraught expression on his countenance.

“Please stop crying, Je t’aime. Talk to me.” He uttered, as he placed a small peck on both your eyelids. You shivered under his touch. It was the first time in months that you were physically reminded of his affection for you. That he once loved you. Instinctively, you leaned forward to meet his forehead, remaining connected. “Talk to me.” He murmured gently, his thumb still rubbing your shaking hands.

With an exasperated sigh, you broke off from him tearfully, because you knew if you stayed any longer, all of this pent up courage would be gone and you would fall right back into his doting arms. He pinched his lips together, apprehensive of what’s to come.

“I’m breaking up with you,” You couldn’t believe the words that were stumbling out of your mouth. Your sweaty hands quivering, you try your hardest to clasp any sort of poise. Kylian stood still, on the other side of the island, utterly in shock of what you’d said. He bit his bottom lip and pulled his head back towards the ceiling.

“Don’t do this. Please. You’re the only thing in my life that feels right.” He whispered, under his breath, his voice trembling. Your heart pulsated harshly, feeling a deep, throbbing hurt in every inch of your body. Tears threaten to spill from the crevices of your eyes, so, similarly to Kylian, you tip your head towards the ceiling and fiercely bite your tongue.

“This is probably the longest we’ve been together in weeks, Ky. We barely- We don’t talk to each other anymore. We don’t touch each other, it’s like I’m living with a stranger. It hurts, but- despite everything, despite all the hurt, I don’t want you to sacrifice your ambition for anyone. Not even me. I’ve told you that since we were fourteen. And even though I told you to, right now, you’re so focused on these dreams, that I don’t know whether to be proud or hurt.” You expressed, without much thought or pause.

He nodded mindlessly. His nostril flared outwards as he breathed out shakily, flashing an unsolicited dimple. In a few strides, he engulfed you in a hug. You counted each heartbeat that reverberated against your face, as he stared down at you lovingly. “You know when I told you we were different, unlike other couples?” You whisper against his chest. He hesitated briefly, his breath catching in his throat at the memory, then nodded. “I meant it. Which is why I know we’ll find our way back to each other again.”

He pulled out of the hug steadily, and made his way towards a seat. His lean arms propped up on his knees, he places his strained eyes in his calloused palms. “Kylian?”

He sits up, his eyes blood red. His eyebrows slanted inwards, he shakes his head painfully. A wave of sadness crashes into your heart, as you watch him fight back tears.

“I love you, and I don’t want to be with anyone else but you, Y/N. Je veux fonder une famille avec toi. Épouse-la. It’s always going to be you. Only you. Forever and always. You are my past, present and future. Ma vie.” He says strained, his breath catching and forming a feeble hiccup. You grew up with him, and both of you knew that you wanted to continue doing so with each other. You couldn’t imagine it any other way. You let out a deep sigh and bit the skin of your cheek. You walk towards him, leaning down to cup his tear stained face.

“Kylian Mbappé, I am in love with you. I have been my whole entire life, and that won’t change. No matter how much it may look like it, I will never be able to love someone like how I love you. Right now, we both need time to ourselves. To get better, to grow. We aren’t giving each other our 100%, and we’ve always said-”

“All or nothing.” He finished your sentence, nodding regrettably.

“All or nothing.”

- - -

chapter one

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freshfraise · 1 year

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new mbappe series soon!! 👀 sorry for the wait, i was in the middle of examsss

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freshfraise · 1 year

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Girlllll you write sooooo welll I LOVED Full of Suprises😫😫😫😫😫😫😫❤❤❤❤❤

thank you so much!!! i really appreciate comments like this so thank you for reading and i’m sooo happy you enjoyed <333

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freshfraise · 1 year

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Can you do a Richarlison or Neymar fic you’re a famous actress and everyone is obsessed with your relationship

posted it here!!! <3

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freshfraise · 1 year

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IN THE SPOTLIGHT

pairing: neymar x reader

summary: Neymar and Y/N’s relationship, typically remain between the two counterparts. Y/N and Neymar. Amidst all the rumours, they take to Instagram to hint at their status, hoping to drive people away from them, not realising that it would do the absolute opposite.

author’s note: tried something new!!! was honestly so fun making these, but my next fic should be written. short and cute, enjoy!!!

yourinstagram

liked by neymarjr and 1,404,767 others

yourinstagram ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 PÁTRIA !!!!

neymarjr 😂😂❤️

↳ user160707 the love heart 👀

user172873 is that davi and ney in the first pic?? 😭

rafaella 💖

↳ yourinstagram 💞💞

↳ Y/N_neymar_obsessed Comment from rafaella??? ITS CONFIRMED

user1718928 Y/N and Neymar>>>

neymarlover163 😍😍

richarlison Você e ney devem nos visitar em breve! (You and Ney should visit us soon!)

liked by yourinstagram

PDA GALORE: NEYMAR AND Y/N SPOTTED BACK FROM THEIR TRIP TO BRAZIL

The two Brazilian prodigies, Neymar the illustrious football player and Y/N, the distinguished actress, have arrived back from their spontaneous trip to Brazil. Despite not confirming nor explicitly posting each other on their social media’s, fans (and us alike) believe the two seem to be settling into a profound romantic pairing.

View their romantic photos here.

yourinstagram

liked by neymarjr, thiagosilva and 2,111,627 others

❤️💙 & 😴💤

user168889 they definitely don’t care about being private anymore

user146766 maybe they’re just really close friends

ney_marlover NEYMAR!!!!!

thiagosilva 💜

↳ user46567 THIAGO TELL US THE TRUTH

yourinstagram

liked by neymarjr, zendaya and 1,111,446 others

work, trabalho, work

Y/N_fanpage her lifestyle >>>

user1617798 can’t WAIT to see her new series

user1010 okay… where’s neymar

↳ yourinstagram At home?

↳ user71827278 WDYM?? AT HOMEEE

↳ user78988 WHAT THE-

↳ user676775 IVE BEEN SAYING OMG

↳ Y/N_ney_lover ITS OFFICIALLLLLL

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yourinstagram

liked by neymarjr, and 15,664,788 others

yourinstagram Feliz aniversário para o amor da minha vida. Eu estava esperando para mostrar ao mundo como você é fofo. (Baby N 🥺). Eu sou seu para sempre. ❤️

Happy birthday to the love of my life. I’ve been waiting to show the world how cute you are. (Baby N 🥺). I’m forever yours. ❤️

neymarjr Eu te amo para sempre ❤️

↳ yourusername Te amooooo 💞💞

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