Just Imagine The Things Those Arms Could Do To You…. I Just…. Ughhh

New series alert!

Hi guys!

I have been thinking about writing new series on Kylo Ren x !Princess Reader, where the reader is also the last Sith sorceress. I am not sure whether or not you are familiar with the concept of Sith magic, however, I have had this idea for a long time now and the whole series is essentially mapped out already.

It would take you through the rise of Kylo Ren right after Ben Solo had turned to the dark side up until the events of the sequels, although it would not follow everything that happened in TFA, TLJ and TROS. You would be able to follow the story of the princess reader and her journey through learning about her abilities after a tragedy strucks her home planet and she is forced to flee from the grasp of the First Order and its Supreme Leader Snoke.

I don’t want to give away too much, but even I am excited to see how this story unfolds, so if you are interested in reading this story, do let me know in the comments or my inbox. I would be happy to give you a prologue by the end of the next week!

A quick update!

I have eight more request imagines coming up this week, I have decided to try and write at least two a day, because I am quite a slow writer at times. However I have a few ideas that I would like to make real that are not related to the requests. I would love to post one of those today and see what you guys think, BUT it's quite an emotional one and could be mentally quite hard to read for some of you. I don't want to make you guys uncomfortable with some topics, so I am here to ask you, whether you would like to read one today or not? If you don't, I will continue on with the requested imagines.

Thank you for all the support, it means a lot to receive such an amazing feedback so far! :)

Do you write only for Antoine? Xx

As of now, yes. It is what I had mainly decided on writing, because I feel like I know enough about him to freely come up with some ideas, but as I already answered to one of the previous asks, I am looking for good prompt lists that I could use in my future writings and maybe do sort of a “multiple scenarios for different characters” in one post kind of a thing, if that makes sense? I will at some point in the near future (most likely today) make a post about which players would you guys like to read about and then I will try to come up with a solution. I hope this somehow answered your question. Thank you for asking! 

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!

I'm so glad that someone is finally writing for Antoine my French baguette 😍🖤

Your comment made me happy on so many levels! The baguette part kills me :D Thank you! I had noticed that there is not enough appreciation of him :)

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."

Hi do you write for Ben Pavard or Florian?? I'm just asking because there's actually zero stuff about them

Hmm, I really hadn’t thought about it until now, I could try, but I know a lot less about them than I do about other footballers. If you guys (the readers of my blog) would like to read something about them, then I will see what I can do :) I have decided to find a really nice prompt list (if you do know one, please, sent it to me or tag me in it) and take it as a guide, then I could try to write for multiple guys. I hope that’s okay with you :)

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.

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! :)

Don’t ever leave me

A Harry Styles imagine

Based on this request:

Hi! Could you, please, write a Harry imagine about you leaving your home to go for a walk and your phone runs out of battery, so Harry can’t reach you and is very worried and stuff? Make it all fluffy!!! Thanks!

Requests are open! Enjoy!

~

It was a quarter past eleven PM. You and Harry were both sprawled across the livingroom couch, wrapped up in both fluffy blankets and each other’s arms. Muffled and rather quiet sounds came from the Notebook playing in the background. This was your second time watching it tonight, as thrilling as it may sound. Even though Harry loved the film from the bottom of his heart and every time watched it with the same amount of enthusiasm, the rough this week’s schedule had completely drained any signs of energy left in him, only faint snores came out of his nose as he slept on the softness of your chest, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

After laying there for what seemed like forever, you finally decided that you are not ready for your bladder to burst just yet, so you tried to pry yourself out of the tangle of Harry’s limbs. Once you finally stood up, satisfied with the fact that Harry had not even moved an inch during your grand escape, you made your way towards the bathroom. As you were washing your hands, you noticed the bright full moon shining over the beautiful landscape in front of your window, making you yearn for a nice walk in this beautiful autumn night. Making sure Harry was sound asleep, you put on warmer clothes, remembering to take your gloves out of Harry’s coat pocked, quietly chuckling to yourself at the fact that he stole them this morning, because “the wheel was too cold to properly drive”, not because he in general was freezing his limbs off, just pretending to be more masculine infront of you.

Once you were set to go, you put in your headphones, locked the door and left. Every step you took in the beat of the songs that did not make it to Harry’s album, your mood and spirits lifted, and even the chilly air was not enough to make you regret the decision of leaving the warmth of your home. After being out for what seemed like only fifteen minutes, the weather all of a sudden changed into one that London oh so dearly knows - it started to pour. Looking at your surroundings, you got a bit confused, as the neighbourhood did not seem familiar anymore, you checked the clock in your phone, only to be met with a notification that your phone only has 1%. Cursing to yourself you noticed the time - 1:17AM. What seemed like only half an hour turned out to be almost two. Realising that there is no way you could use the phone, who had now turned off completely, to call a taxi or use Google maps to find your way back, you decided to turn around and try to remember the unusually random path you took, inwardly being angry at yourself for not following Harry’s rule not to wander around places you have never been to before. After what seemed like five hours, you finally saw the oh so familiar park near your home, relief washing over you, as you finally understood your whereabouts. Approaching your home, now freezing, since it was still raining, you noticed lights illuminating the windows, and a confused expression took over your face. Once you opened the door, you heard heavy and fast steps coming your way - Harry, dressed up seemingly ready to head out, with worry painted all over his beautiful face.

“Where have you been?! It’s almost 4AM! I’ve been worried sick for hours! Where is your phone?!” he angrily shouted, but worry was latched onto his every word.

“Baby, I’m sorry, I went out for a walk, but kind of got carried away. My phone ran out of battery, and I kind of got lost” you quietly said, not wanting to get him more worked up.

“Got lost!?? What did I tell you about wandering off?! It is NOT safe for you to be alone in a city like this!!” He spat, the vein in his neck showing itself prominently, and his hand ran trough his freshly cut hair. After a minute of silence, a sigh left his lips.

“Come ‘ere” he ordered, patting his lap.

You took of your boots and tiptoed to where he now sat on the couch. Once you sat down, his arms tightly wrapped around your trebling figure, embracing you in a warm hug.

“I was worried sick, I drove around the block for almost two hours with no sign of you. I was ready to head down to the police station” he whispered in your hair, kissing it as he did.

“Don’t ever do that again, or I will have to chain you up or something” he said jokingly, but you knew more than well that he meant it.

“I promise I won’t, ‘m sorry” you said and laid a soft kiss on his cheek, making the embrace to get tighter.

“I love you so much, babygirl, I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you. I would be ready to kill anyone trying to harm you” he said with a clenched jaw, his voice cracking every once in a while as he spoke.

“I know, baby, I know.”

The two of you got up and went up to your shared bedroom, wrapping yourselves in the warmth of your blankets, as Harry pulled you close to his chest, making sure you don’t get a cold after tonight’s events in the freezing weather. As you slowly drifted away in the dream world, Harry whispered sweet nothings into your ear, while stroking your hair the way you loved, the last thing you heard being:

“Don’t ever leave me.”