Request For Y/b Being Insecure About Her Looks And Her Body Because The Other Wives/girlfriends Look

Requests are open!

Send in your imagine/one shot/blurb requests about Antoine Griezmann! The World Cup once again got me in my feelings, and I have missed writing so much! Keep ‘em coming!!!!

I need you

An Antoine Griezmann imagine

Based on this request:

Hey! I saw you’re taking requests so I thought maybe something about Antoine being with a new girl after Erika and him broke up and she’s a lot younger then him and she meets his family for the first time and she feels really insecure and scared that his family will think she‘s ruining his life?

Part two will be up shortly! Enjoy!

~~~

It’s been over six months now since Erika and Antoine's divorce. Though it was hard for both of them, especially knowing that they share a child, Antoine had known that it is for the better. Though at first the thought of them two splitting was only something he had seen as a side effect of being so tired, thus always frustrated with everything going on in his life, he could not for the dear life of him forget the night he had met you.

It was around eight months ago. The season had just ended, and Antoine and his team mates had gone out for a drink to the local pub in Madrid. The night was filled with alcohol and laughs, a few more serious topics had found their way in the conversations, but it was nothing more than just drunk talks, or at least that’s what Antoine had thought. He vaguely remembers telling his friends that he is tired of the consistency in his life, tired of coming home to be met with his wife that always says and asks the same meaningless things, tired of feeling no more spark in their relationship. He loved her and his daughter, of course, but the feeling in his guts was trying to prove him otherwise to mess with his mind. But maybe it was just the alcohol...

You, however, were sitting by the bar with your friends and sipping the not-so-club-esque drink of Coke, not feeling in the mood to get piss drunk and not remember even anything that had happened the night before, like it had happened to your friend the other day and left her traumatised to such an extent that she did not even attend your weekly friday outing. Your friends were spinning around the dance floor, some were looking for a compatible one night stand, while the others were way too tipsy to even look like they are dancing, not just having a casual seizure in the middle of the club. The feeling in your bones had sent shivers down your spine, once you recognised that someone has been watching you the whole time you were lost in your thoughts. You felt the piercing look, but you didn’t dare to glance in its direction. You figured that it would be for the best, as it would not provoke something you were not even sure you would be able to handle, if necessary. After a while, though, the curiosity had gotten the best of you, making you look directly in the direction of the glare, but you found nothing. Just a couple of backs turned in your direction, some shaking with laughter, some twisted in an ungodly way to see someone that had fallen off of a stool. It almost felt as a disappointment to you. It’s not like you wanted the attention, but the fact that you never really got it angered you. It was until you felt a warm breath on your neck that triggered your heartbeat.

“I’m sorry for bothering you, but you look way too lonely and beautiful to spend the night alone,” the stranger had said.

You turned around only to be met with the most beautiful blue eyes you thought you had ever seen. Your breath hitched in your throat and it was suddenly hard to breathe, yet you managed to get out a response that intrigued the handsome man in front of you. One sentence lead to another and by the end of the night it felt as if you had know Antoine already prior your meeting, but it certainly didn’t bother you. Though you had learned that he was in his mid-twenties, married and had a child, with you being almost six years younger than him and single, something about him screamed despair and longing for something more in his life, but it was against your principles to even imagine having something more with him than just a conversation. When the time came for you to leave, you had decided against giving him your number or even telling him your last name in the hopes of him trying to find you via social media. He was saddened, to say the least, but understood that asking for your number would lead to something more than just a friendly relationship, or at least that was what he had imagined. He was smitten by you in a matter of few minutes and letting you go seemed as the worst decision in his life.  

The next few days went by as a blur for both of you, as neither of you had been able to think of anything else than one another. It was until one night that Antoine had only seen you as just a girl in the bar that he oh so desperately was trying to get out of his brain. A night in which he dreamt of thoughts so unholy that even he himself was surprised by how needy he was to see you again, to smell your perfume and touch the silkiness of your skin. It was once again Friday, when he had told Erika he was going out with his mates, when in fact he was just hoping to see you again. Of course he had remembered you saying that this was the usual weekly outing place for you and your friends, and he couldn't have been more anxious yet giddy just to see you again. Once he entered, his eyes were looking for your face, butterflies were swarming his stomach - a feeling he had not felt in a very long time. Once he saw you, he couldn’t help but smile, but that soon vanished as he noticed you sitting with a guy he knew you hadn’t mentioned before. A pang of jealousy had struck him then and there, yet he knew there is nothing he could do about it as you weren’t his. He slowly approached the bar and made sure that he did so in a manner that would not go unnoticed by you. He pretended to notice you only after a while of sitting by the bar and sipping on a glass of scotch. He noticed your eyes smile when they met his, and he was met with a reassurance that you were indeed happy to see him - something he didn’t know he needed. He approached you and introduced himself to the man sitting next to you. It turned out he was a best friend of yours and was keeping you company to make sure you are safe, and Antoine appreciated it. After a while the guy left and the two of you were once again left to a conversation that soon grew a lot more personal and intimate than when it first started. He confessed that he was not able to get you out of his head and that he needed more of you, to which you responded with the same neediness and desire. You two exchanged numbers, yet you had felt the need to exchange more than just that.

The days spent texting soon turned into a few hours spent together, which turned into days and sometimes even nights. You knew he was married and so did he, but neither of you seemed to care when the two of you were together. Erika, though oblivious to the two of you, knew that Antoine no longer wanted to be in a relationship, which had left her broken. They had set a date of divorce, which she had desperately tried to postpone or even cancel at all, yet Antoine had made his mind. When you asked him as to what made him make this decision and why with her, he only responded with:

“I have never felt anything like this with anyone else than you, (Y/N). I need you, and if I won’t have you, I will go insane."

hii just wanted to say that I love your new kylo ren story idea and I look forward to reading it 😊

Thank you so much! 💕 I am really excited to be writing again, especially about Kylo, even though I haven’t done it before. So I really hope the new series will meet your expectations. Stay tuned! :)

That antoine imagine was so cute oh God I have so much love for this boi I'm so glad you're writing for him- 🥖

Thank youuuu! I’m glad you like it! :)

Also i just had this imagine in mind like I read somewhere that one player finally said in the interview that he had try so hard to get this girl she really like to go ona a date with him for like 40 times before she actually said yes and I was wondering if u could do it with anto like u know he's a footballer and all but he have to impress you first because you're not that easy and he's trying so hard because you're like a challenge different from his other girls and he likes you so much 😘

Just posted, love. Sorry for changing it up a bit, I hope you won't mind. Thank you for requesting! 

No more

A Whoever-you-want-it-to-be imagine

Trigger warnings: Angst, domestic violence, blood.

Read at your own risk!

If you ever come into contact with such violence against you or anybody you know, please, contact the authorities or call the domestic violence hotlines. Nobody should ever feel oppressed and violated. 

~~~

Tired. You were simply tired of all the meaningless fighting. It wasn’t like you two didn’t have anything to fight for, having been together for so long had to mean something, didn't it? It didn't seem to be enough anymore though, to keep you two together. The once intertwined hands now pointed at each other in rage more often than they met in peace, the only laughter that was shared was out of anger and pity. The kisses once shared turned into harsh words, while love slowly turned into hatred. You don’t even remember when and how it all went wrong anymore. Days you once thought to be the worst of your life now only serving as a proof to the wind before a storm. A storm you were never ready for.

It had come to a point when neither of you even knew whether the other comes home, the bed once shared in peace and love had become only one of the evidences of a broken relationship, a lost war that had only left heaps of unhealed wounds. Some days it seemed to have stopped. The fighting, the lies and the hurt. His hands once again found yours, his lips - your body, leaving love bites next to the bruises he had left before. He had never intended to hurt you, no. He says to even not remember doing so, yet you do. Each mark, each wound, each word that often hurt more than what he left on your flesh for the world to see.

Each mark on his body. Ones you had never left there. Others have. And no matter how much it hurt you, there was nothing you could do about it. The smell of their perfume made you sick, the stains of their lipstick on his shirts made your stomach twist, but your hands never did anything more than clean and fold them for him to wear again, only to return with the same stains, just a different perfume. Was it really none of your business anymore?

More often than not you found yourself hiding. You kept trying to tell yourself that you are hiding from him, when in reality it was you you were hiding from, but couldn’t. Your heart was broken. To an extent where it was way past the point of repair, yet you managed to heal it every time you thought the pain had passed. And you were once again in love. He said to feel the same. Until the next time. And the next time proved to be worse than the ones before. It almost felt gradual. Like levels of a twisted game you never got tired of playing, but when you finally did, it presented you an offer you knew you couldn’t pass. It lured you in. Badly. Yet were you in the wrong for falling for the devil? They say that even the devil was an angel once locked out of the heaven. Maybe it was him the people had warned you and others about.

Summers had always been your favourite. Not because of the blooming nature, the bright colours or the warmth. It was because you could finally put on the dresses you had insisted on buying during the wintertime. It was until this summer that you realised your hatred for them. The marks on your body made you feel disgusted and unloveable. 'No wonder he didn’t love me anymore,' you had thought. 'Who would love somebody this broken on the inside and outside?’ But he did.

You came home to a smell of freshly picked flowers. A smell you had not felt in a long time. And there he was. A living devil in disguise of an angel. He smiled at you, making you wince. What had he done this time? Was it another girl he was trying to apologise for? No, it couldn’t be. He had stopped apologising for it a long time ago. Was it another broken mirror or a wall he had broken in the midst of having a spark of anger? However, his knuckles showed no evidence of it. His hand reached behind his back, you were no fool, you noticed that. You took a step back just as he did toward you. He sighed, yet didn't say a word. Then he spoke up.

“I love you,” he had said after what had felt like years of silence, “I love you and I want you to be mine forever. Marry me and I promise - no more,” he had said.

“Yes,” was your answer, even though your mind and soul was screaming no. He made a promise. You couldn’t do that to him. No, not you. You couldn’t hurt him. Not like he hurt you. Wounds heal, don’t they?

It had been a year since that day. He had come home to you, kissed you on your forehead and given you a bouquet of fleshly picked flowers.

“For you,” he had said. You smiled.

He took you by the hand and lead you to the garden. It was a peaceful night. The stars shone bright. A glass was put in your hand as one was in his. They clinked against each other.

“Cheers,” he toasted and smiled.

So much had changed within a year. It almost felt too good to be true. Almost. One glass turned into two. Two toasts in three, and four clinks in the breaking of the thin glass. Wine coated your lap. You had tried to laugh it off, but the alcohol in his system had other plans.

You had been here before, yet you were not the one to learn from your mistakes. Your body collided with the wall that was recently repaired in the hopes of never being broken again. The blood from your nose soon found your white dress. It was summer after all, and the old wounds had healed. But he wanted more. You looked back at him when he shouted. The veins on his forehead and the black eyes made him look insane. Yet he hadn’t expected your act of bravery. He had not expected to see you looking back at him as he raised his hand.

“Look away,” he demanded. You didn’t. You stood there and looked him dead in the eyes. Understanding. Hurting, but no more hiding.

His hand was still in the air, his breath got caught up in his lungs. Unmoving.

“No more,” she had whispered as she made her way to him. Caressing his cheek in such a manner that made silent tear run down his face. He fell on his knees. Begging.

“No more,” she repeated, as she took off her ring and made her way towards the door. And she didn't look back.

The 'No more' was so good and the other anon was right write what you want to write its important to not push yourself into something you dont want to do 💕

Thank you! I appreciate it! I really hope you guys liked it, because it is not about a topic everybody is content with. :)

Make me

An Antoine Griezmann imagine

Based on this request:

Spending your time with anto at the pitch while he's supposed to be training time but everyone is spending their time with fam and he's play fighting with the reader about the ball and like throwing her on the floor but still being careful not to hurt her and she's like showing him what she's got lol I love your imagines

Enjoy!

~~~

It was another rather long day for both you and Antoine. You both have been up since around 6 AM, because Simeone had decided to get his team back in its strengths as soon and efficiently as possible, which had resulted in an agonising whole-day training on a Saturday. To say you were grumpy was to say the least, however watching Antoine play on the pitch and seeing the smile on his face definitely brought your spirits up, not to mention that you had finally gotten food and a nice cup of coffee, which had lessened your need to whine the crap out you.

It was around 2 PM, when you had noticed the guys starting to fool around, not really listening to the strict orders of their coach, which at had already gotten him to the point that he didn’t even try to go and stop them. Simeone had seen their efforts and that was enough for him. At least for today. Antoine was laying on the freshly cut grass, his stomach was rapidly raising and falling from chasing Costa around the pitch just now. For some reason seeing him like this made your stomach flutter at how truly handsome he was. Not to mention athletic, which was not exactly the trait you could say you possessed, even though since being with Antoine you had secretly tried to learn as many tricks to try and hopefully impress him.

As you approached, he took his arm off of his eyes and squinted at you, a little smirk was playing on his lips as he said:

“Enjoying the view, love?”

“I beg your pardon, I was looking at Gameiro, he is looking rather fine today,” you smirked back, but as soon as that smirk had appeared, as soon it was wiped off when Antoine got up and started chasing you around the field.

Terrified. You were terrified of him catching you, because you knew his tricks and that him getting a hold of you would mean the death of you. Literally. He knew that your weakness was tickling, and you couldn’t handle it even to save your own life. However, we are talking about a footballer here, and in the meantime of the first 20 seconds he had you in his arms and on the ground, his fingers already finding the soft skin of your ribcage.

“Please, I beg you, I was just joking,” you tried to get it out, but the air leaving your lungs along your laughter made it seem like you were dying.

“Just joking, right? And what would you do if I were to say that I am only jokingly tickling you, huh, love?” he said back, the smug look on his face only intensified as your voice grew louder.

“P-please, let me go! I will play the ball with you, just stop touching me!”

“That is not a phrase I hear often, love,” he smirked once again, receiving a slap on his arm for such a perverted reference, “but alright, I will let you live this time, but only if you score at least three out of five goals and somehow manage to steal the ball from me.”

“You have got to be joking, Antoine,” you said seriously, but even that didn’t budge the cocky look on his face, “you know what? Fine. It’s not like I’m playing against Ronaldo or anything,” and with that you got up, took the ball and prayed to god that he was only joking, but the look on his face after that Cristiano reference told you otherwise.

Though dribbling was something even you considered to be easy, having Antoine as an opponent soon enough made you rethink your life choices, because the boy didn’t look to have come to play games. At first he had gone a lot tougher on you, but now he was just messing around, because he had seen your dedication and the concentrated look on your face. Though he made sure to go easy on you and to not accidentally hurt you, he still had a hint of worry in his face every time your small frame collided with his, to which you only responded with an ugly wheeze as you sprinted past him and scored another goal against him, to which he responded with a:

“You know that I let you do that, right? It’s not like you are good or anything,” he fake-scoffed and playfully rolled his eyes, but in his mind he couldn’t help but smile at how much you were enjoying this and his profession, how much you liked to spend time with him and fool around.

“Oh please, just admit it! I am better than you! Jesus, now I agree with Simeone for making you lazy arses come here for the day, you guys suck!” you laughed as you approached him and put your arms around his neck. His eyes were smiling, though his face was stone cold serious.

“It’s not funny, (Y/N), we don’t suck, but if sucking is something you have in mind, we could go home earlier and arrange that,” and the smirk was once again on his face, but you couldn’t wipe it off even if you tried.

“You are horrible, you know that, right?” you said with a disgusted look on your face and laughed.

“Well, if being sooo disgusting let me get a girl as beautiful as you, then I don’t mind, you know,” he smiled, and lightly pecked your lips.

“If only it was that easy, I’m actually only with you, because I knew I could get Gameiro’s number,” and with that you were off laughing, while Antoine called after you:

“I will sure want to see you trying to walk properly tomorrow, if you won’t stop right now!”

“Make me!” you called back, already not being able to wait 'til the two of you will get home.

I'm a writer myself but I do not write for footballers I kinda want to since last summer but never had the courage to actually start I'm stressed people will judge me about it or not read it at all - 🥖

Oh, love, if writing is something you enjoy, then you shouldn’t fear about people not liking your writings. They will definitely notice that you are passionate about it :) Besides, if writing imagines about football is something you would like to try, then try it! You will see whether you like it and will feel much better once you have taken the first step, I believe :) I will read them for sure! And I really don’t think people will judge you, this is a platform for those who want to express themselves and find what their heart likes. You do you!

Hi that imagine I requested today with antoine trying to win you over was everything I wanted like you did it perfectly. Have a nice day love

Thank you for your feedback! You put a smile on my face, because I was genuinely worried for a second there. Have a nice day! :)