what's kylian got in his fancy bag?

I saw this account @jkkyks (btw she's so amazing and talented and I love her and her account so much) post this pic saying the only thing missing in it is a girl on her knees and it inspired me ✨

First time

Kylian Mbappe one shot - SMUT

The second the door clicked shut behind you, Kylian’s mouth was on yours. His kiss wasn’t gentle — it was claiming, commanding, making your back press against the wall as his tongue slid against yours. By the time he pulled away, your lips felt swollen, your breath uneven.

“Do you trust me?” His voice was low, rough, already full of intent.

“Yes,” you whispered, though your heart thudded in your chest.

His hand cupped your jaw, thumb brushing your cheekbone. “Then get on your knees for me.”

You froze, heat rushing through your body. He never looked away though, his eyes locked on you intently, waiting for your reaction.

“I’m scared it won’t be good for you.” Your voice cracked with the confession, embarrassment flooding your face.

His gaze softened, though the sharp dominance never faded. He stroked your cheek with his thumb, tilting your face up so you couldn’t look away. “Don’t ever doubt yourself with me. I’ll guide you. I’ll teach you exactly how I like it. All I need is you — and your trust.”

You nodded, heart racing, as he took you by your hand and led you to the armchair that stood in the corner of his bedroom. He sat down, his eyes burnt into you as he watched you slowly sank to your knees.

Kylian leaned back, spreading his legs, looking at you like he owned the moment. Then his hands went to his belt. You watched, breath caught in your throat, as he pushed his trousers down.

Your reaction to seeing him like this for the first time didn't go unnoticed.

A smirk tugged at his lips, pride flashing in his eyes. His hand brushed lazily over himself as he watched your reaction. “Don’t be scared. I told you, I’ll be gentle with you. I’ll make sure you can take all of me — in time.” his voice was teasing, but there was warmth beneath it.

You swallowed hard, the mix of nerves and arousal making your thighs press together. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, gaze locking yours.

“Take off your shirt,” he ordered, tone sharp now. “Your bra too. I want to see your tits.”

Your hands trembled as you obeyed, baring yourself for him. He leaned back again, eyes dragging over your chest slowly, hungrily, until they snapped back up to meet yours.

“Perfect,” he said, voice firm and full of satisfaction. “You belong to me. Every part of you. And tonight, you’re going to prove it.”

Your bare chest rose and fell quickly, skin prickling under the weight of his gaze. He leaned back further in the armchair, legs spread wide, one hand lazily stroking himself.

“Come closer.” The command was calm, unhurried, but you scrambled forward on your knees anyway, settling between his thighs.

His free hand cupped the back of your head, guiding you, steady and firm. “Start slow. Just your hand first.”

You wrapped your fingers around him hesitantly, the size alone making your throat go dry. He hissed at the contact, his chest lifting sharply.

“Good girl,” he breathed, watching your every move. “Tighter… that’s it. Look at me while you do it.”

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, and the intensity there almost undid you. He was watching you like a king admiring his prize, every second feeding his need to own you.

Every time your shyness threatened to take over, his praise pulled you back — “good girl,” “just like that,” “you’re doing so well for me.”

And when you looked up at him, flushed and breathless, his chest rose with something between pride and hunger. His control never faltered, but the restraint in his eyes told you the truth — he wanted to devour you whole, but he’d wait until you were ready.

Because he was Kylian, and what was his, he’d always take care of.

“Now wet your lips,” he ordered. His thumb brushed across your bottom lip, tugging it down. “Open for me.”

You obeyed, cheeks burning as he pressed his tip against your mouth. He didn’t push — not yet. Instead, his hand stroked your jaw, gentle but commanding.

“Take me in… just a little.”

Your lips closed around him, and he groaned low in his throat, head tipping back for a moment before his eyes snapped down to watch again.

“Fuck, look at you.” His voice was ragged, pride dripping from every word. “My shy girl on her knees, letting me teach her. You’re perfect like this.”

He guided you deeper, inch by inch, his hand steady on the back of your head, his other fist tightening on the armrest as he fought for restraint. Every time you hesitated, he praised you — “good,” “yes, like that,” “you’re doing so well for me” — until the embarrassment melted into a desperate need to please him.

At one point, he pulled you back, eyes dark, lips curling into a dangerous smirk. “Show me your tits again. Play with them for me while you take me.”

Your face burned hotter, but you obeyed, cupping your breasts, kneading them slowly as your mouth slid back over him. His groan filled the room, one hand gripping his thigh, the other tightening in your hair.

“That’s it. My girl. Mine.”

The words alone made your stomach twist with heat.

When his breathing grew sharper, heavier, he stilled your head, holding you exactly where he wanted you. “Open wider for me… almost there.” His voice broke into a growl. “You’re gonna swallow everything I give you. Don’t waste a drop.”

Moments later he spilled into your mouth, the raw groan that tore from his throat filling the room. His grip on your hair tightened as he watched you, chest heaving, eyes blazing.

“Swallow.”

You did, throat working as you forced yourself to take every bit of him. When you finished, he pulled back slightly, tilting your chin up with his fingers.

“Tongue,” he ordered, voice sharp.

Your cheeks burned as you stuck it out, showing him. His satisfied smirk was devastating.

“Good girl,” he murmured, stroking your cheek again, his dominance wrapping around you like a second skin. “That’s what I wanted. You on your knees, taking me, proving you’re mine.”