#if Neymar only stayed | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

delfiore · 1 year ago

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—MY DEAREST FRIEND AND ENEMY. (1/5)

pairing: ona batlle x fem!reader

synopsis: you were ona’s biggest headache at man united, until you both move to barcelona.

word count: 3.7k

a/n: i’ve been watching the men’s game for years but i’ve finally sobered FINAL TODAY LET’S GO ENGLAND LET’S GO SPAIN (MOSTLY SPAIN)

PART II, PART III, PART IV, PART V

It started four years ago when Ona first signed for United. She didn’t notice at first the way you were always gunning for her, she was just doing her job.

But now, you were here in Barcelona with her. As she looked up at you, a soft smile on your face, everything she had buried in the past year all came rushing back.

Everyone was aware of the new signing from the States for her rival club just a couple of weeks before, a dragged-out saga of whether you were going to choose City or United. Unfortunately for her, you chose the Sky Blues.

If things had been different, maybe she wouldn’t have despised you as much as she did.

The first Manchester derby you played, she thought marking you would be easy until you dribbled past her several times to register a goal and assist. She must have been glowering at you when she walked back to the midfield line, because you shrugged before grinning at her, saying: “All in a day’s work.”

“Could I just ask what put Man City above all the other contenders for your signature?” “Well, I mean, it’s a great club with a great history, amazing players too. I’ve spoken at length with the new manager and he gave me a rough plan for next year’s project. So I’m really excited and confident that it’ll be a great destination for me.” “What do you say to the people who think you’ve chosen City for the money?” “People can think whatever they want to think. I’ll just play my game, and they can judge me all they want. It’s all anyone’s good for.” “You’ve just transferred from Portland, you’ve got an enormous price tag for the women’s game, tons of big clubs in Europe wanted you. There’s a mounting pressure on you, it seems. Do you think you’ll be up for the challenge of the Women’s Super League?” “It’s no fun if it’s not a challenge.”

Ona Batlle was what people considered a modern full-back, dangerous in attack just as she was solid in defense. But when playing against Man City, she usually has to stay back to avoid a dangerous winger finding their way into the box; you. It wasn’t her way of playing, and it frustrated her that that was what her role was while her team was struggling to create chances, especially when she knew she could help.

“I want you to stay back and mark Y/L/N. Whatever you do, do not let her out of your sight,” Casey had told her.

She hated you for caging her in, and the worst part was she wasn’t sure if she can stop you sometimes.

The night before her next game against you, she watched how you played the previous match, studied your movement carefully, and took notes. She liked that she had found a pattern. You liked to use your speed, but you also liked to taunt your defenders; a pace of prime Thierry Henry’s, and showboating tendencies like that of Neymar. It’s why you were so entertaining to watch, because every defender you faced ended up a sort of decoration to your parlor tricks, her included.

Ona never liked being second best to anybody, and certainly not to you.

And so when she was on the pitch, zeroing on you like a hawk, there was nothing stopping her from getting away from you. She didn’t need to resort to any risky challenges, she just needed to stick with you, keep you at arm’s length, and stay between you and the goal at all costs.

You may be a skilled player for your age, but controlling your temper is something you haven’t been able to achieve. She heard you cursing a few times, eventually earning you a yellow card when your insults were directed at the referee.

The ball had only left the City’s goalkeeper, Roebuck, yet she already felt you pushing back against her.

The game ended 3-1 for United, but she was secretly much happier that she had managed to piss you off so much, that you didn’t bother shaking hands with her afterwards.

“Congratulations, Ona. A huge victory for United. What do you think went well today?” “I think that our plans worked because we practiced and showed what we’re able to do. We didn’t have a lot of possession, but we focused on the counterattacks, and I think that definitely was a very effective tactic today.” “I have to ask you about Y/N Y/L/N. She’s been a formidable player in the league until now, and notoriously difficult to defend against, but she was practically silenced today on the left-hand side. Do you think you had something to do with that?” “I think what I’ve prepared in defense has worked out, for sure. I’ve also got my teammates to thank for covering the grounds for me. Y/L/N is a good player, and it’s always a joy to play against her.”

Her rivalry with you continued, and soon even the press was picking up on it. Manchester derbies now included Y/L/N v. Batlle, and everyone was predicting what crazy thing would happen next. It wasn’t common for defenders to make waves in the paper compared to superstar strikers or even midfielders unless they were linked with a big move. But soon Ona was reading about herself in the news, how she has defended Manchester United’s left wing with an iron grip, how they started calling her la matadora, for her ability to hold off forwards and tame them like bullfighters do.

One bull remained to be tamed though, and her conundrum continued into her second season at United.

Unlike her, you seemed to take the new breath of fame easily enough. Day in and day out, there were news of you scoring goals and bringing Man City to the top of the table by November.

You were born to be a star.

But Ona knew from shooting stars in the game that burned out too quickly; if you let what’s outside the pitch get to you, you might as well just leave it altogether. You might have been a good player, on your way to becoming a great one even, but you did have a flare for the dramatics which riled up the press quite a bit. If she was lucky, maybe the pressure would take you out of the game before she does.

International breaks were times she always look forward to, being able to represent her country. Even if they were friendly matches, she knew Spain was always being watched, as a team’s form was important on the world stage. The team would play two friendly matches, the first one being against Brazil and the other against the United States. Some friendly fixtures . . .

Brazil was a breeze, mainly because she wouldn’t have to face her biggest adversary. Naturally, you were called up to your national team, and the back-and-forth game persisted.

She had played against you many times at club level, but the way you played for your country was something else. There was more passion to the way you weave your way through defenders, more flare to your shots. It could also be the adrenaline of being called up for the first time, and wanting to prove yourself—she knew that feeling well.

It didn’t come as a surprise, then, that when a long ball was played over the defense line and Marta Cardona was on her way towards goal, you’d be there to strike her down right at the edge of the box. Her teammates appealed, and the referee paused the game, but all Ona saw was red. With a speed she didn’t know she had in her, she sprinted to you and shoved you away as you were bending down in a show of checking on Marta.

“What was that?! You could have broken her ankle, cabrona!”

“Watch it.”

You had never seen her so angry before—her jaw locked as she continued to hurl insults at you. If she wasn’t your mortal enemy maybe you could have found it attractive. So you pushed back, and soon both your teammates and hers crowded around you, trying to separate you. Kelley put her arm around your neck and walked away, telling you to “keep your cool, this is only a friendly”.

Never, you thought. Never while I’m playing against her.

You apologized to Marta eventually, and she was cool with it. “Heat of the moment”, she said, and you were grateful. You never meant to hurt anyone. Sometimes you just couldn’t control your adrenaline spike.

As expected, Ona didn’t even look at you after the match. So you went home with Marta.

The next morning at breakfast, Ona heard laughing from the girls surrounding Marta.

“How was your American late-night snack, Marta?” Leila laughed.

The girl only shook her head with a grin. “It was delicious, alright.”

Ona didn’t know what that twisted feeling in her gut was when she heard what Marta said, as she walked back to her hotel room after breakfast. She just knew that as long as she was alive, you were the most despicable person she knew.

ESPN: Y/L/N-Batlle Feud Continues, Bonmatí Controls Midfield in Spain-USWNT Clash “LOS ANGELES -- Thursday night saw a friendly match between Spain’s women's national team and the USWNT at the Snapdragon Stadium that ended in a 2-2 draw. Several debutants started for both teams, including Man City powerhouse Y/N Y/L/N. After a stunning cross into the box from the left for Mallory Pugh to tap in, a dangerous slide tackle on Marta Cardona ensured Y/L/N to be the heart of a confrontation between several players, including Ona Batlle. It seems their club rivalry persists as they were seen giving each other a very clear piece of their minds, and several clashes succeeded the Cardona tackle. It would have been a good performance for both if not for the slip of attitude. One thing is clear, though; the mentality is there, and it sure is entertaining to watch. […]”

The end of the season was fast approaching, and while you had become a thorn in her side, it came to a point in which she would not think about you until a week before a clash. This one in particular was crucial in the race for a Champions League spot that both Manchester clubs were vying for. She knew what it meant for the club to secure a UCL spot for the first time, and you were not about to ruin it for her.

Tooney and Millie invited her out for dinner the night before the derby, but she turned them down, opting for a quiet night in instead. After a few hours, however, she suddenly felt antsy, the anticipation before the game nipping at her. It was only 7pm when she checked and she decided to go for a run. She followed the familiar path she always takes to the nearby park, and she was glad she did because the sun was going down, leaving a glorious trail of orange in the sky. She loved these peaceful moments, away from adrenaline, away from the constant pressure, away from constantly having to push herself or she’d be called ‘lazy’.

A constant huffing sound appeared next to her, and when Ona looked down she saw an adorable corgi looking up at her while wagging its tail.

“Hello,” she bent down and pet the dog. Loving the attention, the little corgi jumped up in an attempt to lick her face, to which she let out a laugh.

“Bratwurst! Come back here!” She heard a voice call in the distance, which she assumed must have been the owner. “Sorry, he loves people.”

Ona looked up, and her face dropped. You did the same, standing frozen in front of her. Bratwurst was jumping up and down before you, probably excited that he received pets from someone else today.

She had never seen you in plain clothes before. You clearly knew how to dress yourself, because she might have admitted that you looked good if she didn’t hate you so much. But it was difficult to see you as anything else other than Y/N Y/L/N, Manchester City winger, and potentially Golden Boot winner this season by the looks of it.

And yet, she sat down on a nearby bench with you anyway, watching Bratwurst stick his butt in the air, attempting to catch a squirrel.

“I named him Bratwurst ‘cause he’s . . . long, you know?” You chuckled. ”Short form is Brat too, that’s kinda funny.”

In a sea of northern Englishmen, she never got to hear your American accent properly as she’d only heard you speak no more than two words to her, and most of the time they weren’t pleasant.

“How do you have time to own a dog?” She asked.

“He’s a foster. I just got him a couple of weeks ago.” You looked down at your fingers. “It’s nice to have him to come home to.”

The conversation died down, and suddenly Ona felt like this was a mistake. Maybe she should just leave, and continue her run. But she saw a different side to you—a gentler, quieter side unlike the boastful player she knew you as—and she wasn’t sure whether it was a good thing or not.

“Are you planning on adopting him permanently?”

“Maybe. I just want to make sure that I’m settled before making him move.”

You leaned back, placed your arm on the bench, and closed your eyes.

“You don’t want to stay in Manchester?”

“I don’t know yet. Why, would you be happy if I did?” You smirked, and she saw a glimpse of that player again.

Yes. “Your presence doesn’t bother me. It doesn’t bring me any joy either.”

“Just face it, Batlle.” You turned your body to her. “I get under your skin, don’t I?”

Ona blinked, her jaw clenching. “You don’t intimidate me, Y/L/N. You might be used to people bowing at your feet, but I won’t let you walk all over me. We will win tomorrow, and you might think to show some respect for others in the game.”

“Sorry, Batlle, can’t let you win. We’re playing Champions League next season.” You really enjoyed taunting her.

Ona huffed and stood up. As she walked away, she heard you call out to her. “See you on the pitch tomorrow, la matadora!”

There was nothing you could ever do to make yourself less hateful in her eyes.

It was matchday, kick-off time. Ona saw you on the other side of the midfield line. “Remember what you came here to do, and finish the job,” Marc had told them in the dressing room. He was right. She had a job to do, and she wasn’t about to let you ruin that for her.

They were to play with a high line today, which required Ona to stay near the midfield line and run back, should a forward slip through. About halfway through the first half, she had a startling realization; you were dropping back too, playing a number-10 role. It meant that she couldn’t do what she did last time you met, because there would be a gaping hole where she covers.

United was leading 1-0 by halftime, and while they had the advantage, the fight was far from over.

“Okay, ladies. Have a drink and take a seat,” Marc stood at the front of the dressing room. “We’re doing good, we’re holding them off. Keep up the pressure.”

Ona sat back to catch her breath. You were much more versatile than she thought, and maybe that was her mistake for underestimating you. It seemed too easy that you were giving her exactly what she wanted, playing high at the flank like she always does. There was more to it, but she needed to adapt.

Ona held your gaze for a moment across the field. You weren’t giving up. It seemed you were confident enough in whatever wicked plan you still had up your sleeve, that you sent her a smirk back.

It was the 70th minute of the game and they were so close to achieving it. Katie was looking for a pass, so Ona made herself available.

There was empty space near the side of the box, and she wanted to utilize it but it meant having to get past a couple of defenders.

“Vilde! 1, 2!” She called, passed the ball to her teammate, and started running. Her momentum was halted when Vilde’s ball was cut off and instantly launched forward.

The counterattack came so quickly, it must have been what you practiced. 1-1.

Suddenly, the tides have shifted. The momentum was with City. Time was running out, and the sudden goal disoriented her team. It took about five minutes for everyone to get their head back into the game, but Ona could tell City were used to having possession by then.

And then, in the 88th minute, you were given the ball from the left. Everyone except Alessia had dropped back to defend a series of dangerous balls up until now. You didn’t have anyone to pass to without getting intercepted, and you were outside of the box. So you took the shot. She watched helplessly as the ball flew past Mary into the top right corner.

1-2.

Ona’s body ran cold as she watched you celebrate with your teammates.

When the final whistle came shortly after, she collapsed on her knees.

Some of her teammates were there to console her, but she let their comfort pass through her. She needed to break something.

She needed to get away from everyone and found a spot near the bathrooms where she could catch her breath. Her boots were dangling from her hand by the laces. She slumped against a wall and began to cry, the boots clattering next to her on the floor.

It wasn’t that she was sad to have lost—she blamed herself for letting you get to her head. The interaction of the day before got her thinking what ifs. What if we didn’t meet under these circumstances? What if I could have just gotten to know you without wanting to rip your head off every time I see you?

You heard quiet sobs down the hallway and knew it was her. You had quickly gone into the tunnel when you didn’t see her anywhere on the pitch, but you certainly weren’t expecting to see her cry.

“Batlle?” You called.

She didn’t seem to notice you, sitting against the wall and wiping her face with her shirt.

“Hey, it’s okay.” That was a stupid thing to say considering you just beat her out of a Champions League spot, of course it’s not okay.

“I’m really not in the mood,” she said, looking away.

“You did good out there,” you said, watching her anxiously.

“Don’t act like you care,” she sniffled. “You got what you wanted.”

“I’m not as heartless as you think, Ona.” You quipped back. “I’m not sorry that we won, but I am sorry that you’re hurt.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” She sobbed and glared at you. It sent a chill down your bones. “I wish we had never met.”

How do you tell her that you never meant for things to go this way? That every word you had ever said to her didn’t stem from malice but from fear? You had wished to push her away so that you don’t collide with her head-on. How do you tell her that no matter how hard you tried, you still gravitated toward her?

“I’m sorry.” You repeated, like a fool.

She was hurting because of you.

You snuck a glance at the form of the girl in front of you, like you would be penalized if you were caught looking at her. You took a step back to go, but she held onto your arm and pulled your body against her.

You had been fantasizing about having your mouth against her for months, usually in absurd circumstances, like you two making out in a bed of roses or you giving her a kiss after she, a masked superhero, saved you from danger. Never like this, muscles aching, sweat coating your foreheads, wearing your respective uniforms—being so you doing this.

You wanted to enjoy it. Her lips were soft and salty, and she might have secured you by the waist against her. Your knees trembled as you sighed into her lips, pushing her against the wall gently. Your hesitancy soon turned into hunger, as you pressed your body into hers, desperate to feel her.

Murmurs in the distance snapped you out of it. “Where’s Ona?” You made out one of the voices saying.

You looked back at her, your faces just inches away. You never noticed, but she had so many beautiful freckles adorning her face.

“Ona—“ You said, but she quickly picked up her boots and left towards the voices.

Chest heaving and head spinning, you slumped against the wall with a small grin, bringing your fingers up to touch your lips where she had been.

“Where have you been?” Keira asked in the dressing room, but you just shook your head.

“Just to the bathroom.”

Sky Sports: Man City’s Talisman Y/N Y/L/N Nets Stunning Late Goal Against Man United To Secure UWCL Spot […]

a/n: this gif is so y/n and ona coded

#ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine #ona batlle imagines #ona batlle #woso #woso x reader #woso imagines #wwc23 #spain wnt #man united women

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unabashegirl · 9 months ago

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Bella Hadid || Instagram Blurb

Author's note: Hello everyone! Here is a new instagram blurb. I hope all of you enjoy it. Also let me be clear my inbox is open so leave your request!

masterlist

liked by harrysfan98, yourbestfriend and 70,496 others

yourinstagram I really wish we could have been everything I dreamed we would be

view all 5039 comments

harryfan304 did they break up?

harrysfa928 why does she look like she has been crying?

yourfan20 he doesn't deserve you! You are too good for you.

yourbestfriend I'm coming over.

liked by harryfan398, harryfan294 and 50,083 others

tmz_tv Harry Styles seen with a mystery woman only days after alleged breakup with super model Y/N Y/L/N. Multiple sources close to the couple say that the breakup ended in good terms and that it was Y/N who ended things with Harry. What do you think?

view all 10,487 comments

harrysfan20 I doubt it. She is nothing without him

yourfan12 she was a model before him.

yourfan376 good for her. we all know that he would enventually cheat. Look how quickly he moved on. and he was in love with her?

harryfan194 he is allowed to move on

liked by jacobelordi, neymar and 15,285 others

yourinstagram back at Vogue's headquarters 📍

view all 2958 comments

jacobelordi 👀

yourfan48 stop cause they would be the hottest couple ever

yourbestfriend how the hell can you manage to look like that? 🙄

sabrinacarpenter hott 🔥

liked by harrystyles, harrysfan56 and 8948 others

yourbestfriend wish I could take your place and give you a second without pain. I love you. 💕

view all 2406 comments

yourinstagram having you here gives me enough strength💜

yourfan48 so worried abt her

yourfan295 pls tell her that we are here for her

harryfan395 what's going on with her? is she sick?

yourfan184 she suffers from a cronic disease

liked by yourbestfriend, harrys948 and 40,294 others

enews Harry Styles has been seen flying back from England to New York. Close sources have reported that he is in New York to see Y/N Y/L/N due to the delicate state that she is currently on. The model has been fighting with a rare chronic disease that hasn't been disclosed to the public. Last week, her best friend posted a picture of her state which concerned the majority of her fans. We hope the model recovers soon and send our best wishes.

view all 20,857 comments

harryfan398 pls leave them alone.

y/nismyfavorite stop following him. only you people would take advantage of the situation.

liked by harrystyles, ariannagrande and 70,396 others

yourinstagram There has been of speculation about my health online lately. I just wanted to come on here and let everyone know that I am doing well and slowly recovering. I also wanted to clarify that I won't be disclosing any details about my disease and I would appreciate some privacy in the matter. Please stop calling my family and interrogating them. Thank you for all your messages. I will hopefully be back soon. 💖

view all 30,582 comments

ariannagrande love you! I can't wait to see you 💜

niallhoran stay strong 🥹

kendalljenner we miss you terribly ✨

harrystyles ❤️

yourfan he is definitely checking up on her and with her.

liked by jeffzoffs, pillowpersonpp and 2,583, 958 others

harrystyles Your blue-green eyes are driving me insane.

view all 30,583 comments

yourinstagram ♥️

harryfan937 finally 🙏🏼

harrys092 so she isn't sick anymore?

pillowpersonpp cute 🥰

liked by niallhoran, yourbestfriend and 108,485 others

yourinstagram educating this man. spicing up that dresscode 💁🏻‍♀️

view all 6980 comments

harrystyles i'll admit they are comfortable…

birkenstock ITS HAPPENING!! CALM DOWN PEOPLE!

yourbestfriend spicing up? ugly. 👎🏼

yourinstagram shut up. i've seen you wear them.

yourbestfriend aren’t they the same ones that make the Jesus chanclas?

niallhoran you are late to the trend mate 🤦🏻‍♂️

liked by yourinstagram, mitchrowland and 4,693,385 others

harrystyles educating her. zero sense of fashion. I am the model.

view all 20,857 comments

yourinstagram get off the internet dofus! 🛑

harrystyles no. make me.

yourinstagram i dressed you last night

harryfan20 isn't she the model?

yourfan38 cute shoesss

adidas we love you both 🥹

mitchrowland harry doesn't know how to dress himself. he always calls y/n for her opinion.

harrystyles shut up mitch! 😡

yourinstagram I told you!

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thatsdemko · 2 years ago

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MASTERLIST

updated as of 6/05/2023 back to helpline

to find what players I write for please click here

↳ to look at part 2 masterlists please click: here

IMAGINES

HOCKEY

Nico hischier

the fight

william nylander

famous

mitch marner

paper rings

thomas bordeleau

revenge

ice and spice

punishment

moritz seider

ask

mat barzal

neighbor

Jack Hughes

mess around and find out

BASKETBALL & NFL

killian hayes

comfort cuddles

Travis kelce

Super Bowl

live from New York

Patrick mahomes

parade

FOOTBALL/SOCCER

christian pulisic

one last time

confusion and confessions

lie detector part two

first timer

the apology

want one?

Mason mount

you belong to me

hate me

little mount

uncle Mason

delicate

Neymar jr.

five minutes

FORMULA 1

nyck de vries

year one

charles leclerc

a sleepless night in monaco

the other man the right man

fallingforyou

Mozart

falling in love again

uncle Charles

summertime happiness

match point

love affair

brothers best friend

Carlos sainz

desperate

unforgettable

spoiled

Polaroid

papa carlos

I see red

stay, stay

lover

pining - mini series

max verstappen

secrets out

happiness comes in ice cream

the ways in which max shows you he loves you

lando norris

the right man

this love

little streamer

one too many

everybody’s friend

Pierre Gasly

one night with you

falling in love again

jealousy, jealousy

only him

one last ride for the alpha

I’m yours

lewis hamilton

it’s sir to you

drunk on you

ride that like a Mercedes

Daniel ricciardo

the return of the honey badger

dicked down in Dallas

Tim McGraw

home is whenever I’m with you

arthur leclerc

cruel summer

hard work

love affair

yuki tsunoda

sushi date

cherry blossom season

one last ride for the alpha

mick schumacher

you are in love

the ways in which mick schumacher shows you he loves you

toto wolff

ride that like a Mercedes

extra credit

George Russell

I think he knows

MISCELLANEOUS

BLURBS

brad marchand

Jeremy swayman

quinn hughes

cale makar

benjamin pavard 2

travis kelce

josh giddey

lando norris

max verstappen

carlos sainz

Daniel ricciardo

COLLECTIONS| MINI SERIES

valentines day

fake it? - mini series

Taylor swift inspired works

dad + family works

three’s company works

pining - mini series

#hockey imagines #hockey #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl #nhl fic #hockey fic #hockey blurbs #nico hischier #thomas bordeleau #william nylander #mitch marner #thatsdemko masterlist #hockey masterlist #masterlist #football imagine #f1 imagines

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photmath · 2 years ago

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It Was Never Us | Kylian Mbappé

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x Female Reader

Summary: You had finally had enough.

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: ANGST, ANGST, cursing, time jump, lots of dialogue

Note: I reluctantly apologize. I rushed to get this out in time before the semester started so if there are mistakes, I do apologize for that.

FOUR YEARS AGO

It has been three times now. Three times that Kylian had forgotten about your biweekly date night. Three times that you were left feeling like a complete failure. Three times you were left questioning yourself what you did wrong.

The first time he had forgotten about it, he made it up to you by taking you out the next day. The second time: he had made plans with Neymar that day, said that he got the days confused, you just said that it was fine. You weren’t in the mood to argue that day—especially because your team had a bad loss—a match he hadn’t even bothered to show up to, let alone text you ‘good luck’ or ‘sorry about the match.’

But today, today was different. It was the anniversary of your four-year relationship. He said he had the night handled a couple of weeks ago, and that all you had to do was ‘dress pretty.’ You weren’t able to double check with him because of his away match yesterday. He was flying in today and then was going to attend a rehab session to loosen his tight muscles.

He had promised he wouldn’t be back home late.

However, it had been almost four hours past the time he was supposed to come by and pick you up. So now, you are just fed up.

He hadn’t mentioned anything about the anniversary date or your plans. Let alone a text message saying ‘Happy Anniversary.’ You thought maybe he was planning an elaborate dinner, that that was the reason why you hadn’t been sent your favorite flowers or even a call.

Your phone dings again. A timer you had set for yourself to start winding down for the night because you had a big match tomorrow—Women’s Championship League—against Chelsea.

Standing in the kitchen in your heels, dress still on, you couldn’t take your eyes off your phone: a video of Kylian at a restaurant with Neymar and some of his other teammates. He wasn’t doing anything bad, but he was just there. Never did he mention to you that he was going out tonight. The video had been taken over an hour ago.

You don’t even feel angry. You feel embarrassed. Humiliated. But you don’t let those emotions consume you, instead you start packing a set of clothes in a large traveling purse you have. You weren’t going to stay here tonight, you couldn’t.

As you zip up your bag, satisfied with the items you packed, you go back to make you some type of dinner. You hear the front door unlock and you let out a breathy sigh to calm down your feelings as he walks in.

He glances at you, and then does a double take, his head tilting, “It’s a bit late to go out, ma chérie, don’t you think?”

You cross your arms in front of you, Kylian’s confused expression only growing. You give him a calm smile, “You tell me.”

“What do you mean?” He sets the training bag he took this morning on the dining room chair. He props his elbow against it.

“What’s today?”

His cheeks warm suddenly, his mind juggling through birthdays and anniversaries. He stills. His shoulders slack as he rubs his face, “Fuck, fuck, chérie, I’m so sorry—”

“No, I don’t want to hear it. I’m done, Kylian,” you say. Your voice is so eerily calm that it makes him worry.

He looks at you, his eyebrows raised, “What?”

“I’m done.”

“No, chérie,” he walks towards you in a couple of strides. His arms are reaching out for you but you swipe them away. Your heels clack against the marble tile as you walk past him. “Let me make it up to you.”

You let out a laugh, “I can’t believe I wasted this time with you.”

He’s shaking his head but you can’t see him frantically following your pace up the stairs, “Don’t say that, mon amour.”

“You haven’t remembered shit, Kylian!” you whip your head to face him. His face is only guilty and full of shame. “I can’t even remember the last time we cuddled, let alone held hands.”

You knew juggling between matches of you and him, time got stretched impossibly. But the times you were home, Kylian used to never take them for granted, neither did you. The both of you would cherish one another whenever in each other’s presence. Always communicating, loving one another, and supporting each other at games if time permitted.

But then the World Cup happened. You had the time to go to Russia and you and Kylian had the best time there despite you only being able to see him after his matches. His popularity and recognition skyrocketed. He was on everyone’s mind and you couldn’t be any more proud.

However, that was the turning point in your relationship. No longer were you guys able to go on weekly dates comfortably—not with Kylian’s new status. He would have to rent out restaurants or you two would get bombarded. It turned to every other week because it got exhausting trying to make time with him at a restaurant.

Kylian’s hands fumble on the rail, clutching onto them. His eyes tear away from yours and you scoff, continuing up the stairs. His steps heavy and fast, “Chérie, wait.”

“I waited for four hours, I’m done.” You grab your bag and sling it on your shoulder.

He gawks, “Done with what?”

You look up at him, “Done with this. With you and your unkept promises.”

His face falls again and he stops walking closer to you, scared that any move towards you will only push you away. He says, “No, can we just talk about this please?”

“Sure, Kylian, we can talk,” you indulge, your voice laced with sarcasm.

He frowns, his mouth opening but he says nothing. He scratches his neck, searching for words, “I—I’m sorry.”

Your hand teases off the engagement ring from your finger, setting it down on the dresser you and Kylian share. Kylian’s heart squeezes at the sight of you. He can’t stop himself from walking to you, “Wait, please.”

You stand there, eyeing him quietly. His eyes are darting back and forth between your bare finger and the ring. “Don’t do this. Not right now, you have a game tomorrow. What—what did I do wrong? I��ll fix it, chérie, I promise. I’ll fix it.”

His hands find yours and you let him. You had already made up your mind and you weren’t going to change it. You couldn’t keep doing this each time.

“I don’t even know who you are anymore,” you say and his eyebrows furrow. “You’re not the man who proposed to me on my first ever professional football field that I played on. You aren’t the person who used to rent out restaurants for me without hesitation if I said I was craving something.

“You kiss me when you come home but you don’t talk to me. You don’t ask how my day was or tell me yours. We don’t cuddle. You don’t even go to my games anymore so I’m surprised that you remembered tomorrows. And you’ve missed our date nights for the past months, and I’m so tired of it.

“I’ve done everything. I’ve gone to every game I could possibly make and cancel plans with my friends to make sure we have our date night. I’ve talked to you and told you if something is wrong, like how you have told me to do. We talk it out and we’re usually fine, but this—this has been going on for so long now, that it started off small and now it’s just grown.”

Your eyes search his and they’re stuck frozen staring at you, taking in your words. You pull your hands from his and he doesn’t fight them to break away.

You clear your throat, “I stopped complaining because I didn’t want to be that bitchy fiancé everyone complains about, but no, I will not settle with someone who is no longer the person I love. So I’m done. I’m not going to marry someone who forgets or gets too comfortable in their relationship that they stop entirely and can’t even realize it.”

He steps in front of you, halting your movements, his voice shaking “Give me one more chance and I swear it will be the last. I swear on everything.”

“You can’t keep promises.”

You move around him but he’s quick to step in front of you again. His hands desperately clutching for yours, “Wait—we’ve been busy these past few months, okay? I think we’ve both been exhausted—”

You shake your head, “Don’t say ‘we,’ Kylian. I have given you everything even when I was tired. That’s the difference between you and I.”

He nods quickly, “Okay, me! I have been exhausted lately that I just haven’t been thinking right. I haven’t loved you the way I should’ve. I haven’t given you the attention nor the time that you deserve. I did get comfortable, okay, yes, I admit to that and it’s my fault.”

You adjust the bag on your shoulders, “It is.” You move past him and walk down the stairs. “Even if you had texted me I probably would’ve let this slide, but to go out tonight, seriously?”

“I forgot,” he sighs. “I’m sorry, I know you wish to hear something else—” the both of you stop in the kitchen. His breath hitches, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t keep our promises.”

You take in the view of his face. He’s completely deflated and you wish that brought you joy, but it doesn’t. You want to wrap him in your arms and put your ring back on, saying that you were overreacting but you don’t.

Just a few months ago the two of you were celebrating his twentieth birthday, and then a few months afterward he was proposing to you. The face he wore that day, so full of joy and excitement of what the future held. A stark contrast now.

He frowns, tears welling up in his eyes. A shaky sigh escapes his mouth, “I love you.”

You blink away the tears that threatened to pool, “I love you too, Kylian, that’s why I have to do this. I don’t want to hold myself back—I mean I have a fucking final to play tomorrow and here I am still awake. I can’t keep doing this anymore. I don’t deserve to be second in your life. I hope you find the person that you—”

He cuts you off, “Don’t say that.”

“I wish you all the best and success.”

He closes his eyes, nodding. Somehow him not looking made you walk out easier. And once you finally made it to the elevator, you leaned against the wall and bawled into your hands. Your sobs rattled the entire elevator.

------

PRESENT

“Holy shit,” Sergio mutters. Kylian’s eyebrows furrow next to him, Hakimi across from him leans into the iPad Sergio carries.

“On our PSG?” Hakimi asks.

“There’s only one féminine team,” Sergio replies.

“What’s up?” Kylian perks his head up.

“Y/N Y/L, she just got transferred here.”

Hakimi’s brows furrow, “Woah, her name sounds so familiar.” He flicks his fingers, “Agh! I know it, it’s right there.”

Kylian freezes, dropping the band he and Hakimi were using to stretch. It goes swinging to Hakimi and he winces as it makes contact with his chest.

“Really, Ky?”

Kylian ignores him, walking towards Sergio, examining the article.

The headline reads, “Star Defender is Coming Home!”

Sergio beams, “She’s really good. Marquinhos told me about her…”

He keeps talking but Kylian doesn’t register his words. He’s still fixated on the images of you, you wear a happy smile in your FC Barcelona uniform in one of them, and then in the other you hold a PSG jersey up. You had just been on a stellar season, he knew, of course he had known.

He kept up with all of your games since the two of you had broken up. He had tried to follow you on social media, but watching you play and seeing you up close on his phone, he couldn’t stomach both. He was so glad to see you doing well on Barca that he couldn’t comprehend why you would want to leave them.

Sergio furrows, thinking the same thing, “I wonder why she’s leaving.”

Hakimi shrugs, “I guess we’ll have to just ask her when we see her tonight.”

“Tonight?” Kylian croaks.

He nods, “The exhibition match tonight against the women’s team.”

Kylian eyebrows raise, “That’s today?”

“We were just talking about it,” Sergio says. “How did you forget?”

Kylian, still in shock, “No, I know it’s today. I just…I don’t think she’ll be playing tonight.”

Hakimi chimes, “Maybe she’ll just watch, but no she’s definitely here.”

“How do you know?”

Hakimi and Sergio both furrow their brows at their teammate. His sudden different behavior was not going unnoticed. Sergio lets out a nervous chuckle, “This picture is from today, Kyks. Are you okay?”

Kylian scoffs and then lets out a restrained chuckle, “Of course.”

Sergio nods at him hesitantly and then scrolls down to read the article. Kylian watches as his eyebrows furrow and his heart screeches as Sergio reads it aloud, “‘She’s expected to play in tonight’s exhibition match, and it will definitely be a sight to see her and Kylian Mbappé on the same field. Just four years ago, the two of them were expecting to tie the knot, but suddenly called it off, breaking the hearts of many of their fans…’”

Heat pools around Kylian as both of them look at him. He fixates his eyes with one of the medicine balls that lay some feet in front of him, not daring to look at the two of them.

Hakimi nudges him, “Why didn’t you tell me about her?”

Kylian coughs, “We didn’t work out.”

“You fucked it up?” Sergio asks. His voice is blunt.

Hakimi speaks again, “So you were just never going to say that you had a whole fiancé at one point?”

Kylian sighs, “Yeah, I fucked it up, and it’s not something I’m proud of, Achraf, why would I tell you that?”

He shrugs, “I mean, I could’ve helped you or something.”

“It was four years ago, we didn’t know each other by then. Can you guys please just not say anything? We don’t talk about this anymore,” Kylian’s voice is firm.

Sergio and Hakimi glance at each other, their faces betraying Kylian. Kylian lets out a sigh and shakes his head.

Hakimi talks first, “How long were you guys together?”

Sergio then: “This is an engagement though, how could you have stayed quiet this whole time—”

Kylian rolls his eyes, “It was an engagement. Not anymore—”

“Did you cheat?” Sergio asks.

He groans loudly, “God, no. How could you say that?”

Sergio shrugs, “I mean four years ago was what…2019? You had to still be clouded from the World Cup.”

“I didn’t cheat on her, okay?” Kylian knows he can’t walk out of the session no matter how badly he wants to, so he rubs his face and plops down on the floor, stretching out his hamstrings. Luckily, the three of them were a bit far from the rest of his teammates, so they couldn’t hear much of their discussion.

Hakimi nods his head, “So you did something worse?”

“Like stopped showing up?” Sergio guesses.

Kylian suddenly hates himself for befriending two people who are already married—and Sergio was years into his happy marriage.

“Or, forgot something?” Sergio guesses again.

Hakimi groans, “Never forget a birthday.”

“Or an anniversary. I have my phone set to remind me months before.”

Hakimi laughs, “That’s smart. Kylian?”

He sighs, “I forgot our date nights…and our anniversary. And stopped showing her affection.”

Both of them quiet down. Kylian had yet to cool himself from the prior nerves he got from when Sergio first said your name, and their laughter-turned-to-silence wasn’t helping.

Sergio furrows, “You just threw her to the curb?”

Kylian looks at him, angry with his choice of words. He then looks at Hakimi and Hakimi looks disappointed. His face reminds Kylian of how someone feels when their younger sibling’s hearts have just been broken. Full of protection for someone he had never met.

“I didn’t mean to, but yeah, our lives got hectic months after the World Cup…that I just lost it. I couldn’t manage my time, everything was moving so fast. Dates were coming up before I even realized it, and then she was gone.”

The two of them are quiet again, Hakimi definitely couldn’t relate and Sergio was searching for some good advice.

Sergio coughs, engulfing the silence, “You were just a kid at that time, Kylian. Your recognition exploded and you didn’t know how to manage it. I wouldn’t place all the blame on your shoulders if I were you.”

Kylian shakes his head, “It was my fault though.”

“And the worlds,” Hakimi states.

“You young guys don’t know how to handle it until it happens,” Sergio advises. “You guys will think you do, but you don’t. Everything moves fast after you blow up, but you can never forget about the people who stayed by your side.”

Kylian nods absentmindedly. The advice would’ve been helpful four years ago, but he listens either way.

“Head up, you have a girl to catch,” Sergio says, getting up and patting Kylian’s head as he passes him.

------

Kylian wishes Sergio’s words didn’t give him a surge of encouragement because here he was rehearsing the speech he was going to tell you once he got the time. He cringed as he thought of it. What was he even supposed to say?

Warm-ups had gone swiftly. He had seen you warming up from afar and the glimpse of it alone had his heart faltering between beats.

He knew that you would probably have to defend him, so it made him nervous thinking about you so close to him. The closest the two of you had ever been in four years.

The sound of the whistle was the only thing that got him out of his mind. He had a performance to put on. One that he knew would be cut short by half-time to let the youngsters play, so he had to give it his all since the stadium was sold out.

He tried to keep his gaze off of you, knowing that he would probably freeze and choke up the moment you looked at him.

Seeing Hakimi get the ball back, he knew it was time to start sprinting. He sprints around you, nearly tripping on his feet as the smell of your shampoo swarms his nose. It was still the same smell.

He hadn’t realized you were so close to him. He sprints down the line, and you’re following him.

You couldn’t lie and say that you wanted to throw up, seeing him now brought back all the memories of the two of you. And the funny part was that only the happy memories were the ones you remembered and thought of the most. You didn’t think of the bad parts—not that fast at least—until you had to remind yourself why the two of you didn’t work out.

He gets the ball passed to him, but he has to go through you first to get in a cross. He can’t help but to smirk, a nervous laugh escaping his mouth before he can even comprehend that you stole the ball away from him. You kick it to your teammate, slowing down to a jog. You feel him jog beside you.

“Good ball,” he says, jogging past you. His voice sends you chills. He turns around to face you and a ghost of a smile litters his face.

The game goes on. You and Kylian interact only briefly. When he sprints past you and you know there is no way to catch up to his speed, you let out a groan. He’s chuckling as runs past you and you have to fight back a grin.

The halftime whistle blows and you walk to the locker room, a smile finding your face as you clap hands with your new and some familiar teammates.

You find your way to the restroom, having already heard your coach’s words and line up changes. The restroom in the locker room was crowded so you decided to go to the one down the tunnel.

“Hey,” a voice calls out and you freeze. Of course he was waiting for you. You turn around slowly, Kylian already wearing his wind breaker as he gives you a nervous smile, “Are you playing the second half?”

You shake your head, still shocked at how much he’s grown and his presence. “No.”

Kylian motions his head to an elevator, “Want to come up with me?”

“I should probably tell my coach.”

He waves it off, “I already told him.”

You raise your eyebrows, “What?”

“Let's go upstairs to the media box, I want to talk.”

You almost want to laugh at his bluntness. Your eyebrows are raised, “Kylian.”

He walks towards you, his walk full of confidence as a smile tugs on his lips, “What?”

“I don’t think that’s a good look from me to my teammates.”

“They think you’re with Sergio Ramos right now talking about defense strategies,” he laughs. The sound of his glorious laugh and the crinkles besides his eyes almost make you want to hug him. Almost. After all, this was still the man of your first everything since you were sixteen.

“He’s in this too?” You ask.

He nods, “Just come on.” He presses the button for the elevator, holding the door open as it opens immediately. He holds out his hand for you with a growing smirk.

God, did he look so handsome. That glint in his eye used to make you so weak in your knees and it wasn’t failing now.

You grab his hand and the touch makes your nerves radiate throughout your arm and hand. You silently hiss and his eyebrows twitch but then it goes away. He had felt it too.

The elevator closes and he grins, “Welcome back.”

“Thank you,” you say, stuffing your hands into your windbreaker. You were suddenly glad that you decided to change completely because Kylian still had on his grass stained shorts and socks. You stifle a chuckle.

“It was fun beating you,” he snickers. He settles into the corner of the elevator and doesn’t hide his eyes as they skim down you. “Although you did play well, we may need you on our line actually.”

You laugh, “Oh, shut up.”

He hums, “Music to my ears.”

You roll your eyes. Both of you completely ignored the elephant in the room and you were glad. It was nice to see him again. The person you were talking to was who he was before the World Cup. Before he got too in his head. It makes your heart swell to see him happy again.

The elevator door dings open and he leads you to whatever room he was planning. It’s small with a single table and chair. The walls are painted blue and one of them is a whiteboard. A large window shows the view of the field below.

“What is this place?” you snort.

He laughs, “A small media room. Sometimes they do interviews in this room, but new coaches, never the players.”

“And that’s it?”

He smirks as the two of you make eye contact, “Sometimes a hideout the guys and I go to when we get sent off.”

“Like a red card?”

He nods, “Yep.”

You shake your head, chuckling. He pulls out the seat and motions you to take it. After you sit, he sits on the table, his legs dangling as he looks at the field. He’s sitting across from you on the table and has his back to you. The players were starting to make their way back onto the field.

“I promised—well Sergio—promised to have you back down there within twenty minutes,” he says, his eyes still glued onto the window. “I—” He lets out a shaky laugh and it makes you laugh at his nervousness. “They’re upset with me.”

“Who?”

“Sergio and Achraf.”

“Achraf?”

He glances back at you, “Number 2 on the field. Hakimi.”

“Oh, yes, okay I know him. Why are they upset with you?” your eyebrows furrow.

He rubs his neck, “I told them what happened between us.”

You nod your head slowly although he can’t see you. Well, might as well rip off the bandaid now. Time was ticking.

He looks down in his lap, “I’m sorry, chérie. I didn’t really mean to tell them, but they read an article and it said that we were in a relationship. They started asking a bunch of questions.”

“Wait, there's an article?” You’re already on your feet as you round the table. You don’t even have your phone on you to search for it.

He shakes his head, “It’s not bad.”

“You read it?”

He nods and stands up. He grabs a hold of your waving arms, settling them, “It’s not bad. It was talking about your accomplishments and then only mentioned me at the end. Said that it was going to be a ‘sight to see’ us on the field together after we called off our engagement four years ago.”

“It mentioned that?” You didn’t want the media’s attention to be on your previous relationship, it should be on a team.

He nods, his hands still on your wrists, rubbing circles onto them. “It was brief. Not a lot about you and I.”

“Okay, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you. Where were you?”

He gives you a faint smile, his hands lingers on yours as he takes a seat on the table right beside you. He lets go of your hands, “Why did you come back?”

You sigh and rub your palms on your sweats. He wasn’t going to like the news. The media hadn’t even caught wind of it yet. “I’m getting married.”

Kylian can’t help the reaction he lets out. His eyes widen and his mouth falls open. His eyes are on you and you watch as they go from shock to hurt. He looks away immediately, his head looking down as he covers his mouth.

“He wanted to move here, got a job, and then hoped I would follow him.”

Kylian looks up, his eyebrows creased, “You wouldn’t do that though. You would never give up your dreams. Tell me that’s a lie.”

“It’s not.”

“For a guy?”

You sigh, crossing your arms. It was a bit out of character. “I’m back here because PSG needed a defender.”

He stands up, his head shaking, “Tell me the truth.”

“I am.”

Kylian stands only a foot in front of you, he has to look down at you to talk. His voice is serious, “So what happened to your dream?”

“It was to win the Champions League with PSG. I never got to do it,” you say.

Both of you silently think about that night of your break up. The next day, your team had played horribly against Chelsea, losing 3-0. You wish you could say you played well but you hadn’t at all. Kylian had come to that game, watching in the same room you both stood in now.

He sighs, “You won one with Barca.”

“That wasn’t my dream though.”

“I know,” he gives you a meek smile. “I just—there has to be more to the story, chérie, I mean help me understand.”

You palm your forehead, you should’ve known he was going to want to talk about what you were doing here back. You had left that season to Barcelona after the Champions League, wanting to get out of the city you grew up in. But also wanting to get away from him.

“Is that all you brought me up here for?” you ask.

He shakes his head, “I wanted to see how you’ve been.”

“I’ve been good, Kylian. How have you been?”

“Miserable,” he mutters. “Even more now.”

“Mmm, I’m sorry about the World Cup.”

He waves you off, “I was miserable before that.”

“Why?”

“Because I lost you,” he agonizes and you stop yourself from expressing your annoyance.

“Kylian—”

“Does he make you happy?” His arms flop down next to him as he awaits your response.

You muse, “Yes.”

“Everything you wished I gave you?”

You bite onto your lip. Kylian was one of a kind when the two of you first started dating, almost nothing could ever top his morning cuddles and kisses he would give you. He always knew which muscles to massage before your training sessions. Or how you liked your coffee. Or how you would always like to run yourself a bath after strenuous workout sessions. He’d have the water ready for you when you’d get a home.

“Chérie?” He raises his brow. His hand goes to your cheek and he brushes the delicate skin. The both of you almost melting at the contact. You lean into his touch instantly.

“He’s a gentleman.”

“That wasn’t my question,” he whispers. “Why are you here, mon amour?”

You feel him brush away the tear before you even notice it’s there. You open your eyes and his eyes flutter with concern. You step back, wiping away your tears, “I should head back.”

His arms are around you before you can stop and you break down into him. Your head digs into Kylian’s strong shoulder as you sob into him. He still smelled of sweat and outside, but you didn’t care, all you felt was him. He kisses your head as his embrace tightens, pulling you closer to him.

This felt like home. His scent. His arms. The feeling he brought to your chest, you hadn’t felt this way in four years.

He holds you for a couple of more minutes until your crying dies down. He kisses your forehead when he peels you away, “Tell me. I’m not going to judge. I can take the criticism.”

“He wants to have kids,” you frown.

Kylian sneers, “What a jerk.”

You laugh through the tears and he gives you a small smile. You cross your arms, wanting Kylian’s warmth back. “I don’t even want to have kids right now. I’m playing so well and then I’d have to stop. I’m too young.”

He chuckles. He knew he shouldn’t have found this situation comical but it was. You had told him before how you would only want a kid now—when you were both young—or when you were both older, that there was going to be no in between. So he knew you weren’t going to give this man children until years later. This makes the ache in his heart ease, knowing that he would never treat you this way.

“I’m being serious, Ky,” you groan. “I’ve told him all this already and it’s like he doesn’t care. He can’t even see me halfway.”

“You’ve called off one engagement before, why not go for a second?” He teases. He says it so nonchalantly that you jab at his shoulder.

“Stop it.”

“Okay, okay,” he swipes the smile off of his face. “So you’re here because he wants kids?”

“He wants to settle down, and said that he always wanted to live in Paris.”

“Is he famous?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I didn’t want to do that again.”

He clutches his heart, “Ouch.” You don’t respond and he takes a seat back on the table. He folds his arms, looking up at you, “You told me that you didn’t want to be held back. Isn’t that what’s happening now?”

“How am I being held back?”

He shrugs, “You want a Champions with PSG. Not kids.”

“We can have kids in the future.”

“He wants them now.”

“Well,” you sigh, “it’s still an ongoing discussion.”

He huffs.

You keep going: “I missed Paris. I wanted to be back here with my family. My parents and siblings are getting older. I have a niece who I only see on the holidays and I feel like I’ve missed out on her entire life. I practically have!”

He nods his head slowly, but you can see the way the glimmer in his eyes diminish. He was upset. He exhales, “So it’s just a sudden win-win scenario for you? That it’s easy? Two birds in one stone?”

“What do you mean?”

He stands, he looks disappointed. “You come back here to get married. Maybe win a Champions League. You have your family around you. And then you settle down with this man and have kids.”

You didn’t understand the problem. That was exactly what you had planned. You didn’t see anything wrong with it.

“Kylian, it's been in the news about me possibly transferring for months now. He read about it in an article, and then brought the idea up to me, and then I told him that yeah, I’d think about it. Then the next day, he gets a job here and then I suddenly have to think between two decisions.”

He raises his arm to stop you and you raise a brow at him. He doesn’t bat an eye. “You gave up your life in Barcelona to follow him. Not for you. For him. You would’ve never thought about moving back here if it wasn’t for him.”

“That’s not true,” you cross your arms. “I wanted to move back here.”

He shakes his head, “Maybe you did, but it wasn’t for your family.”

“How could you say something like that?”

“I know you, chérie. Your ambition is too high to ever stop to follow someone. Your family has never held you back, no matter how much they have tried to persuade you. Hell, even I tried to persuade you before. When you have your mind set to something, it’s set. Your niece was born four years ago, a little after we broke up, and what? You barely miss them now?”

You scoff. Kylian’s words were harsh. A brutal blow to you and your return.

He’s shaking his head again, “This man took a job without even asking you! And you were fine with that? He’s never even lived in Paris.”

“It’s different.”

“How?” he scowls. “How is this any different than when you would wait for me to change? Instead, it’s as if I had never changed and you just dealt with it. Are you kidding me? You would have never put up with that—and you didn’t.”

“He can actually keep his promises, Kylian. He remembers anniversaries at the very least. That’s already more than what you did.”

A ripple of a sarcastic laugh escapes him, “Our anniversary would be next week, and when I proposed to you, that’s in three months and two days from now.”

“You remembered that a bit too late.”

He sighs, his hands settling on the top of his head, “I just—you’re making a mistake with this man. He wants a kid, chérie, he wants you to stop playing. He’s already got a new job that I assume pays better than his last. He wants you to be a mom.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Your irritation and annoyance only grows into silent anger. “If you think your words are going to somehow make me leave him and go back to you, you’re dead wrong.”

Kylian’s gaze moves to the pitch. It was at the 60th minute. His rehearsed speech was long gone and time was dwindling down. His mind couldn’t stop thinking about what to say next. He didn’t like the idea of you coming back home under these circumstances.

You wipe your face, “And what does it matter to you anyway? You and I aren’t in a relationship, Kylian. I don’t owe you anything.”

He looks at you, “He doesn’t make you happy. I know it because you were happy with me, before I fucked it up. You don’t look like that right now. You don’t have that glow.”

You snort, “And you’re supposed to bring that all back?”

“I can if you let me.”

“Hilarious. I’m done here.”

He steps forwards to you, a hand settling on your waist and you don’t move, frozen by his sudden touch. His eyes glance down to your lips and then back towards yours, “Just think about why you came here. You know the real reason only. The reason you gave me was full of shit. You and I both know it. I know you want to win the Champions League with PSG, but the only reason you were transferred is because you asked for it. Barca would have never let you go just because.”

He stops, his gaze growing more firm, “And say that yes, you wanted this dream to come true because it happened in Barcelona. I get that. I know that. But what happens when you win it? When you retire and realize that you don’t actually love this man the way you think you do?”

“I lo—”

He shakes his head, “No you don’t. You’re waiting. You’re hoping that something changes. That your feelings towards him change. I know that because you have that look. That same look when you were waiting for me to change. Waiting for me to snap out of it and realize that I had fucked everything up.”

He eyes the clock on the field: 64. He was out of time. Fuck.

You stare at him, lost in his words. This was what he wanted. For you to doubt yourself.

His hand presses against your cheek and then he drops it, “I’m not like the person I used to be. I do remember things now. I don’t ever forget because of what happened between us.”

He lets out a small chuckle, “I definitely won’t pester you to have my kids right now. I won’t compromise on your dreams. I won’t ever make you doubt my intentions. I promise to never make you feel this way, or the way you felt when you left. I’d never tell you to stop chasing your ambition, even if it takes years that we never have kids. Because let's face it, PSG has some growth to do.”

He gives you a meek smile, “My heart was only ever yours to have. And I'd love it if you met me at my penthouse, but only come when you’ve broken up with this jerk. You can come whenever you want, your dresser and empty space in the closet waits for you.”

Kylian takes your face into your hands and presses a chaste kiss on your cheek, lingering his face in front of yours as he pulls away. Both of your breaths are faltering and heavy.

“I’ll see you later,” he whispers. He releases you and leaves the media room.

You’re left alone with his looming words replaying in your mind. You had a life-altering decision to make. Especially because he read you well. Read right through your lies.

(Part Two)

#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian mbappe x you #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe fanfiction #kylian mbappe drabble #mbappe x reader #psg #world cup fanfic #kylian mbappé x reader #mbappé x reader #kylian mbappe imagine

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spidybaby · 2 years ago

Text

Stressed

Summary: When he's stressed and worried about work, that's the only thing on his mind.

Warnings: angst because I'm a sucker for it 😤

A/N: So I'm inspired, and you already know I love angst, I breathe angst, I eat angst. (Okay, I'm done exaggerating), but lemme know how you are? Are you drinking water? Hope you're fine 💐❤️

Since Kylian sent that letter to the higher-ups of PSG about not wanting to stay until 2025, everything is drama.

The french tabloids, for some reason, want him to look bad, want him to look like this ungrateful man.

He's experiencing too much pressure, Sergio leaving, Lionel leaving, possibly Verrati leaving. It was a mess. The whole teams is.

Especially now that this dumb reporter, her name is Sam, she's all over him about the whole side of him about the leaving, the selling, the quitting of Galtier. He's done with her, with the other reporters, with the ultras hating him for even breathing.

"Don't worry, Kyky, everything's going to be fine." Sergio pat his back, Kylian was one of the first ones to know about his retirement of the club. "Don't let that chick got to you."

"I just want her away from me." He drinks too fast for what he's used to. "Can't she cover something else?"

"Look, hermano." Ney says, he had to deal with the same reporter a few months before. "Just tell her something completely different from what she's asking, and she'll leave."

He knows she just wants to write something before anyone else, something that comes from his own, not for speculation. "Lie to her."

He scuff, it's not that easy to be away from her when she's also part of the PSG press people. She has access to everywhere. That makes him uncomfortable.

"Mira Kylian." Leo says. He's not new to this whole press drama. "Just don't mind her, ignore her, saying you have to be somewhere." He smiles, nodding to his advice.

Leo and Sergio are the ones he trusts with this media hate. They're goats, and they come from a long road. He can't deny that even Neymar is an expert. But he's been there for his own stupid mind, even tho he denied it.

He followed the advice Leo gave him, always ignoring her, saying the usual bonjour or a revoir. Nothing else.

That made her mad. She even asked Galtier for his number, not caring about writing him. That took him to the limit. He couldn't escape her. She was everywhere and anywhere at the same time.

"Don't stress, mon amour." You say kissing his cheek. You're massaging him, wanting to help him relax. "I know it's hard, but I'm here for you. It's only you and me."

You tried everything for him to relax, you didn't know the whole story. He never told you about this reporter. So you only think it's because of the whole letter drama.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

"Bonjour, Kylian." Sam says, looking at him. She's blocking the door of the lockers. "Can we talk." She raised her eyebrows.

"I'm busy." He tries to pass her, but she's not moving, and the last thing he wants is touching her or making any type of contact. "Please move."

"Just five minutes." She says, begging him. "And I'll leave you alone forever."

"I prefer you to leave me alone now." His voice is this deep tone. He's done with her games. "Get out of the way." He ask nicely.

"Four minutes." She begged again.

"Sam, out of the way."

"Three."

He breathes deeply, and he's losing his temper. "I'll say it only one more time, and believe me, that I hate repeating myself." He grabs her arm, not hard but the right amount of pressure to move her gently. "I'm busy." He's mad. His whole day is ruined, thanks to her.

He enters his car, asking the driver to take him home. He's supposed to go to his mother's house, but he's too mad for that.

He arrived home funding. His train bag is now on the floor, you're home early, and you notice the noise, thinking maybe he fell.

"Are you okay?" You ask from your bedroom. Maybe he's hurt. "Ky? Amour?" You talk louder this time.

After a few minutes, you hear the footsteps on the stairs. A very agitated Kylian enters the room. "Hi, handsome." You say, opening your arms to him.

"Remember how you said you can take the stress out of me?" He sais breathless, you nod smiling. "Do it."

You throw the covers away from you. Ready to attack your boyfriend with kisses and attention. Your lips feel heavy on his own. He's tense. You can feel him.

There was no other reason for his mind to be elsewhere, hes uncomfortable by the fact that he has Sam on the back of his head, tunning after him, basically harrassi him.

There's no other reason for him to focus on anything other than you. The way your lips feel on his neck, the way your hands are touching the right places, the way you're making him feel good.

His hips are moving to a very fast pace. He's not one to take his frustration on you, but the way you're moaning his name and how your nails are scratching his back is making him lose control.

He doesn't know how, but it happens. He can't take her name out of his mind, now even when you're taking him so well.

When he dips his hips at a certain angle, the back of your head digs further into the pillow, and he attacks the exposed side of your neck. He's leaving red marks, marking you as his. The groan that's escaping his lips are pornographyc.

You could feel nothing but him, the weight of his body over yours, the thin layer of sweat on his back under your fingertips and on his forehead, making the hair close to your neck to stick to it.

What's making the entire situation so much worse is the fact that no matter how much he tries, he can't stop thinking about her. Not in a sexual way, but angrily wanting her to go away, to leave his mind alone.

His hand is griping your waist so hard. He knows he'll leave a mark. Moans coming out of his mouth. “Fuck, you feel so good.” he goes faster, knowing by the sounds you're making that you're close.

"Sam-" that's when he stops. His whole body stop. He doesn't know why he's saying her name. His eyes are open in a panic.

"Get off," you say out of breath. Your heart is beating as fast as if it's going off your body. "Get off of me."

You push his shoulders for him to get off of you. He pulled out and tried to explain. "Y/n, please, I didn't mean to do that."

Your mind is lost, one moment you're under him, holding him closer, kissing him and enjoying him.

And now you're pushing him away, not wanting him to touch you. You grab the covers of the bed. You wrap it around your body before running to the bathroom.

"Amour, please." He tries to grab your arms. "Amour." He almost catch you, but he's not fast enough.

The next thing he knows is you slamming the door in his face. He can hear the way you're breathing and how you sob. The sound is making his heart hurt.

"I promise I wasn't-" he can't even think of an excuse. He's fucked up, he's hearing the way you're crying and can't think of how to solve it. "Listen, she's a reporter that has been harassing me. She's always on me, and I".

You open the door, interrupting his explanation. You're standing there, tears running down your face, blanket around your body, eyes sad.

"Mon amour." He doesn't know if he can touch you. He doesn't want to make you more uncomfortable than what you already are. "I promise it's not what you think."

You pass him, walking to the room to get your clothes, dressing yourself again, hurried to get away from him.

"Please don't go." He says, hand grabbing your arm. "Please, let me explain." He feels like crying, not wanting to let go.

"Not now." You get off his hold. "I can't do this. Please get away from me." You push him lightly.

"Don't go, I'll go, but you don't have to go." He dresses himself, not wanting you to leave. "I'm fucking sorry." Your back is facing him. You can't look at him in the eyes.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

The past week, you were running away from Kylian, leaving extra early for work and returning while he was still training.

For him, it was hard not being able to speak with you. But you needed time, and he's willing to let you have it. Even if that hurt him in the process.

For you, it's been weird. You can't wrap your mind around the fact of what's going on. For you, it hurts that he didn't trust you enough to talk to you about what's happening, and the other part of you is your ego being hurt by him naming another girls name.

You were sure with a talk and being honest, you both can make up. You trusted him when he says he has never been with her, but you also needed to know the whole story.

The sound of keys jiggling is the way you know he's home. When he walks he sees you sitting on the couch.

He's tired, everyone is hating on him for the stupid tabloids, and he can't even find comfort in your arms because he hurt you without intended to.

"Can we talk?" He swears the sound of your voice is magical. He missed it. He missed you. He nods and takes a seat next to you. "Who's Sam?"

He didn't hesitate to detail the whole thing. The things his playmates advised him. "Kylian, why didn't you report her to the management?" You're mad, not with him but with her for being such a bitch and harass him about a stupid football news.

"Because I thought she was going to leave me alone." He yells, frustrated. "I can't do this anymore."

You hug him, caressing his back and him cry his frustration. His not crying about her. He's crying about the news, about the hate, about the media not leaving him alone.

"I'm here, don't cry." You kiss the top of his head. "I'm sorry I didn't hear you before."

"It's not you, I'm the one who made the mistake of letting her abuse her power." He let you dry his tears. "I'm so done."

"It's not your fault. Don't say that." You kiss his cheeks. "You're fine now, I'm not letting her or anyone hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable." You hugged him. Promising you'll never let him feel that way again.

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pablitogavii · 1 year ago

Text

Panic

Everyone around you kept telling you 'he will cheat' or 'you'll never be enough for him' or 'he's probably thinking about those instagram models' and it was all you could think about.

What if they were right?? You were just a normal every day girl and Pablo had grown women on their knees for his attention. All of this was giving you so much anxiety!

"Good evening señora Y/l/n. How are you?" Pablo asked politely as your mom welcomed him inside smiling at his kindness. Unlike all your friends, your parents were very supportive of your relationship with the young football star.

"I'm doing pretty well Pablo, but Y/n is worrying me these days..she's barely eating and doesn't leave her room unless it's to go to school. I don't know what's wrong with my babygirl" woman said and Pablo got curious now also starting to worry what was going on since you haven't told him anything.

He's been busy last could of days preparing for champions league so you only had to face time before bed but you still didn't say something was bothering you.

"I will talk to her, don't worry. I am sure everything will be alright." Pablo smiled kindly walking upstairs where your room is at knocking at your door.

"Amor? Are you sleeping preciosa??" Pablo asked peeking into the dark room seeing you cuddled up on the bed with your phone in your hand highlighting your face.

"Pablo!!!" you said excitedly moving the blanket and opening your arms welcoming him in and he chuckled closing the door and laying besides you scooping you in his arms.

"How are you preciosa? Todo bien?" he said and you tried to fake a smile which he saw right through asking you the same question again making you sigh.

"Um..I'm feeling very anxious lately cariño.." you admit feeling tears collecting in your eyes already and he sits up a bit wanting to be able to look you in the eyes as you spoke.

"Why is that amorcito? Something happened at school or is it something about us?" he said and you got scared to answer. In your past relationship saying that something was wrong meant long hours of constant arguence.

"Um..it's nothing..don't worry about it Pablo" you try to dodge the subject but he wouldn't let you especially after hearing how worried your mom was about your health.

"If it makes you anxious, then it's something I want to worry about. It's alright, preciosa. You can tell me anything, I promise. Bueno?" he caressed you hair while speaking in a soothing tone that made you more relaxed.

"Um..everyone tells me that you will cheat..that I am not enough for you because you're a footballer..and..and I know that's not who you are but..I get scared..and then I panic" you were mumbling the last part afraid that Pablo will take offense but instead he held you tighter pulling your chin up and kissing your lips lovingly.

"Is this why you weren't eating and taking care of yourself huh princesa?" he asked holding your face gently and you nodded your head.

"And then..then I read today that Neymar cheated on his pregnant girlfriend for the second time because they sent it to me..so I just felt sick..and um I couldn't eat anything." you spoke feeling dumb for comparing someone else to Gavi who you knew loved you purely but constant pressures from the sides made you go crazy.

"Amor..listen to me. I know you're my smart girl and you already know this but every man is different and it also depends on the type of relationship he is in with a girl. Most of my friends don't want anything serious because they want that crazy lifestyle while they're young. Joder, I was the same until I met you at that coffee shop and you spilled tea into my lap..I fell in love with you amor. That's different from being attracted to you or thinking you're pretty. It's something worth staying loyal to and I would never do anything to hurt you my sweet girl..I could not bare it. All I want to do is hold you in my arms and protect you from their poisonous words!" Pablo finished hugging you tight and you sighed finally pushing those thought out of your mind and focusing on his words instead. You believed him completely, and you knew you both loved each other unconditionally.

"Are you mad at me now?" you ask fearfully looking up at his still very much soft eyes as he gave you a small smile.

"Why would I be mad amor?" he asked and once again your past relationship made you assume he would be toxic which he is not at all.

"Um..b..because I let them get into my head" you say and he shakes his head while kissing your forehead.

"No, I'm not mad because I get it. Hearing someone constantly saying something will happen makes you worried that it just might. They are jealous of us amor. They don't want us together because they can't have what we have with each other. But no way in hell am I going to let their poisonous words destroy the purest love i felt for someone in my life!" Pablo said and now you were the one who moved up and kissed his lips passionately.

"Neither will I...I'll stop talking to every single one of them. There is no one I care about more than you cariño. Tu eres mi vida." you say and Pablo kissed you again nodding his head in agreement.

"Whenever you need reassurance, just tell me preciosa..I will always give it to you." he promised and you smiled nodding your head and nuzzling it into his neck.

"Te amo Pablito.." you sigh in relief glad that was finally over and he was right there with you.

"Yo te amo muchisimo princesita" he said and the two of you cuddled up in silence for a few minutes. Shortly after, your stomach was rumbling and the two of you giggled because of it.

"Um..maybe we can have some dinner now??" you ask and he chuckled getting up and grabbing your head while walking downstairs.

"Mamá! I'm a bit hungry..is there any dinner" you say and the woman looked so relieved smiling at Pablo who nodded his head glad he could do something to help.

"Yes, it's done. And she already told us what you can eat on your diet, so don't you worry Pablo" she answered as you followed after her to the dinning room sitting at the table.

"Muchas gracias. Looks delicioso" Pablo said really loving the fact that he felt so comfortable with your family just as you do with his.

"Hopefully tastes the same! Bon appetite!" she said bringing the food while you and Pablo held hands underneath the table looking at each other longingly. It made you wonder how could you ever believe such stupid nonsense your fake friends told you.

It's really horrible what happened to Bruna again..I'm speechless but praying for her and her daughter to be finally happy <3

#pablo gavi x you #gavigif #gavi #fc barça #fc barcelona #fc barca #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi #pablo martín páez gavira #pablo gavira #gavira #gavi paez #gavi x reader #gavi imagine #pablogavixreaderfluff #pablogavixreadersmut

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applejuicefruit · 2 years ago

Note

hey beauty how are you?💜

i have an idea on my mind so hear me out😏

Reader and Neymar been dating for a while but one day she finds he cheated on her multiple times during their relationship so she broke up with him but one day she finds out also that she’s pregnant and she never told him because when they broke up she moved away but one day they meet each other again and she’s with the kid you can decide how to end it 💓💓

Thank you for requesting this I had so much fun writing it ❤️

This is pure angst I’m sorry!

Reader’s being a bitch but honestly who could blame her?

Consequences

5 years ago

You had the perfect life.

You had your dream job.

You had a wonderful house.

You had a lot of friends.

And most importantly, you had the man of your life by your side.

You were dating the super famous football player Neymar.

Your life was perfect or so you thought.

Neymar was a party man. He loved to party and to get drunk. It was like part of his DNA.

You, on the other hand hated to party. You hated loud music and big crowds but somehow you managed to be the perfect couple.

Until one night he was at some friend’s party and you were home, feeling sick and nauseous but you had no clue why, a friend of you sent you a picture that you wished you’d never seen. It was Neymar making out with a woman. She looked like a model. She was tall, thin and blonde. Basically your opposite.

Your friends texted you when they saw the picture because it went viral in basically zero minutes. But it wasn’t all. Neymar did the same thing with an other woman, this time she had short brown hair, still a model tho.

And both of pictures were from the same night.

You started doubting your relationship was perfect. You started asking yourself if this was the only time he did it or if he’s been cheating on you for months.

Your heart broke at the sight of those pictures and you couldn’t believe that Neymar would ever cheat on you. Not when a month ago proposed you. Not when now you were wearing a ring on your finger. Not now that you were at home taking care of his child when he was out somewhere partying and getting drunk.

You decided to pack your things and wait for him to get home. You didn’t want to stay in the same home of a cheater.

So you put all of your suitcases in your car and waited for him in the living room, already dressed up ready to go out of that house the moment you’d break up with him.

He came home around four in the morning.

And to your shock he wasn’t drunk. At all.

So at this point he had no excuses.

“Hey babe…what are you doing still up? It’s late” he asked you when he saw you on the couch

“I was waiting for you” you told him with a firm voice even if you just wanted to cry

“Oh really?” he teased you

“Yes. And also to tell you that I’m leaving”

“What-what you mean?”

“I mean we’re done” you stated standing up from the couch and removing your engagement ring

“Babe what are you talking about?” he asked you with a worried voice

“This” you showed him the first picture “and also this” you showed him the second picture and as he watched the pictures his face went completely pale. He remembered perfectly what happened but he didn’t want to tell you so he lied

“Baby I was drunk…” he laughed about it

“You weren’t or you would be drunk now Neymar. And even if you were, does that give you the right to cheat on me? Twice?” you asked him now completely crying

“No baby don’t cry” he tried to hug you but you avoided him

“Don’t touch me!”

“Baby…I swear it didn’t mean anything to me, you’re the woman I love please baby” he looked at you with his puppy eyes and you almost gave in. Almost.

“No Neymar. You cheated. You made the mistake and now you’re paying the consequences” you said

“Baby you can’t leave me. What about me? What about Davi? You know he can’t live without you” he said knowing how much you cared for Davi

“Don’t bring him in this conversation!” you said back angrily

“You can’t leave us baby…” he said now crying

“I made a decision and that’s final…I hope they were worth it” and with that you left the house, ignoring his cries and his begging.

You drove for hours before finding an hotel where you could rest.

That night Neymar cried all his tears.

He was heartbroken but also mad at himself for all the pain he caused you.

———————————-

One month after breaking up you found out you were pregnant. With his baby.

You debated if you should tell him or not, deciding in the end that you wouldn’t tell him. This baby would be better without him.

You moved to London just a few weeks after. You found a new job.

A new house.

And you were ready to start your life all over again.

—————————————

NOW

It’s been five years from that night and even if it still hurt you the way you ended things you couldn’t ask for a better life. You had a beautiful four years old daughter, Maya, and she was the love of your life.

You both happily lived in London.

She was attending preschool and you were working for a big agency in the city center.

Nothing could go wrong right?

Wrong.

One morning you and Maya were waiting for your breakfast in your favorite London bar when his voice called you from behind.

“Y/n?” he said and you pretended you didn’t hear but Maya made it clear someone was calling for you

“Mama someone is calling you!!” she said happily and you smiled at her. You turned around and saw him.

He was handsome like always.

“Hi…” you said shyly

“It’s been so long from that…ehm…night. How are you?” he asked you

“I’m good. How about you? I’ve seen you’re playing for PSG” you said and in that moment you cursed yourself for mentioning it

“Yes, I’m in Paris” he said awkwardly

“I love Paris!!” Maya said out of nothing and Neymar looked at her. He was confused.

“Y/n…who is she?”

“She’s my daughter Maya” you said pointing out ‘mine’ because she was only yours

“Is she…?” he wanted to ask you if she was his daughter but you stopped him

“Not here” you said angrily “Maya honey why don’t you go ask the barman if our breakfast is ready? The one who always gives you the candies you love” you told her in a soft voice and she happily nodded and left

“So she’s my daughter” he stated now getting a bit mad

“Only by DNA”

“I could have been in her life! You had no rights to take her away from me!” he whispered-shouted to you

“You’ve lost every rights on ger the night you decided to cheat”

“That’s not fair! She deserves a father in her life”

“No she doesn’t! It’s me and her and we’ve been doing amazing for four years, why should it change now?”

“Because I want to be in her life! She’s my daughter y/n, she’s my blood!”

“Blood doesn’t make a family and you know it” you said looking straight into his eyes

“I want to be a part of her life”

“No. Absolutely not. We don’t need you. She doesn’t need you…”

“Y/n you can’t do this to me…”

“Yes I can, watch me” you stopped talking the moment Maya came back with hand full of candies.

“Joe says our breakfast is coming, is your friend staying mommy?” Maya asked in her sweet voice

“No he’s leaving. He has to go back to Paris. Forever” you said to Maya while never removing your look from Neymar’s eyes. His heart broke when you said those words. You didn’t want him in her life and you made it clear.

“Yes I have to go back home…it was meeting you Maya” he said almost tearing up.

Maya greeted him and kept eating her candies.

You made the right decision not wanting him in her life? Right?

The moment Neymar got back to his hotel, he broke down crying.

You really hated him and in the end it was all his fault. You said it that night. He had to live with the consequences of his own mistake.

#neymar smut #neymar one shot #neymar angst #neymar fluff #neymarjrxreader #neymar x reader #neymarjr x reader #neymar #neymar junior #neymar imagine #neymar imagines #psg #paris saint germain

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underhousearrestblog · 2 years ago

Text

Self-Sabotage | Neymar Jr.

(summary) when things get tough with your boyfriend, you do the only thing you know – run, and Neymar is not having it

(warnings) toxic-a$$ behavior... from you, luv... history of emotional abuse and neglect (not between the main couple), insecurities about relationship

(pairings) Neymar Jr x reader

(genre) angst, fluff

(reminder) Y/N – your name

(word count) 3.6k

(also) didn’t proof-read but I’m pretty sure I used the term ‘girlfriend’ and she/ her pronouns somewhere there...

HAPPY READING!

You stared at the article in front of you. After the initial shock of seeing the headline and the attached photo, now all you felt was void. Staring numbly at the gossip page, you felt tears rush to your eyes.

Famous Brazilian soccer star Neymar Jr.’s girlfriend cheating?

The attached photos showed you with a friend of yours hugging in quite an intimate manner in front of a hotel. There were already a few hundred comments on the article – some of them ripping you to shreds, some feeling sorry for the soccer star, some hoping it’s not what it looks like.

You had stopped reading comments a long time ago, not really caring for other people’s opinions. Still, it hurt how many people were hoping for your relationship to end.

None of the pictures showed any kisses or otherwise compromising actions but it didn’t take much for your boyfriend’s fans to take something half-baked and run with it. From the vague article and pictures, it could be a date you’re on and it might as well be just running into someone on the way out.

Two pings went off, indicating two new text messages. First was from the friend who informed you about the article.

I’m so sorry, luv.

You wanted to both cry and laugh.

The second was from Neymar. All it said was:

On my way home.

Whenever he texted you that, it usually took him about twenty minutes to get home. You had twenty minutes to get away.

Your thought process might be stupid. You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t cheat. You shouldn’t run. However, your past experiences showed that people, when having even a gram of doubt, could become aggressive. Blame you for things you didn’t do. Say really ugly things. Of course, you wouldn’t describe Neymar with those behaviors but did you really know him? Had only dated for six months... He had probably just seen his partner on the front page of a gossip magazine for alleged cheating... Were you really sure he would believe you?

Once the logical part of your brain kicked in, there was no turning it off. The scepticism and anxiety, your usual companions, were creating scenarios in your head, despite you trying to hope for the better.

He’ll probably will ask me to leave – that was the best case scenario, you thought, stuffing some of the stuff you kept at his place into a bag, I should probably let him cool off anyway before I suggest talking.

You had seen situations like these far too many times – some of your friends blowing up in suspicion that their spouses had cheated, your parents frequently accusing each other, reading horrible news headlines of people getting violent, thinking their partner had cheated.

You knew that running away just added to the possibility of you coming off as guilty – that will be something you’ll have to be okay with. Did you think Neymar would become violent? Not really. However, him looking at you with suspicion and accusation would hurt just as much.

Most of your shit had to stay at the house, you would have to come collect it later. If your boyfriend hadn’t thrown it out himself already. So you packed only the essentials or things that would be hard to replace, in case Neymar actually threw them out. Some clothes, electronics, toothbrush, makeup, vallet and keys.

Keys...

Should you leave his key behind? In that case you should probably write a note or something. But what could you say? I saw an article lying about me cheating, so I went to clear my head, here’s the key, I will be back for the rest of my shit...

Probably should keep it for now... Could use it to come by for your stuff unnoticed.

Once everything necessary was packed, you went to leave and - ever the unlucky timing – the moment you opened the front door from inside, you ran right into Neymar. His fingers were picking out the right key to open the door and, while his gaze was casted down, you had just the right time either consciously or on accident to drop your bag behind the door.

Once he lifted his eyes, they quite literally lit up and he grinned, as he took you in. Disheveled hair, a wild look in your eyes and out of breath – to him you looked like a wet dream, at the same time you tried to steady your breathing enough to not literally pant.

- Hey, sweetheart, - you made no move to move aside. – I texted. Practice ended sooner than expected.

When you still made no move to let him in, he looked you over in more careful fashion, looking for something that’s wrong. You were in a hurry to leave, so, of course, hadn’t thought of the possibility that you could run into your boyfriend.

I shouldn’t have wasted time packing, you mentally berated yourself, but he clearly hasn’t seen the article yet, so what’s the harm of talking for a few minutes?

You forced a smile that, hopefully but unlikely, looked genuine. While moving aside to let Neymar in, you opened the front door with more force than necessary intentionally, sending the bag under the small table by the front door.

While he took the cap and boots off, you closed the door and leaned against it. He fidgeted with shoelaces and you fidgeted with excuses. He talked about something one of his teammates had announced at the practice, but you were only half-listening. Before he went into the kitchen, Neymar turned to you and with an amused smile said:

- Are you coming or leaving?

- I, - you stammered out, - I was actually... I wanted to go to the store.

Every word out of your mouth felt like lead, like a lie. You tried to focus on his eyebrows so you didn’t have to look him into eyes while lying.

- We need milk, - you tried to sound chill, - milk and some other stuff.

You hoped to every god out there that you sounded less panicked to Neymar than you did in your own ears.

Apparently, you did a better job than you thought ‘cause after a small moment of him just staring at you like he’s seen you for the first time, he shrugged and carelessly threw out:

- I’ll take a shower and we can go, - and turned to go into the kitchen. – We’ll take my car. Gimme fifteen minutes.

You blew out a breath you subconsciously had started to hold. He’s going to take a shower. Yeah. It was fine. You’ll sneak out while he’s in the shower. And you’ll leave him a note. He deserved that much.

You carefully walked into the room your boyfriend was and watched him take a bottle of water from the fridge. Were you the only one who felt electricity all around this room? You could’ve bet there was static in the kitchen. But Neymar seemed oblivious.

Watching him made you feel bittersweet nostalgia-kind of feeling. Was this the last time you would see him? Last time you see him loving you? Liking you? There’s no way he would like you after he reads that article. And there was no way he would believe you after he does. You were sure of it.

- Is everything alright, love? – you boyfrend asked, after you hadn’t blinked for a full minute. – Are you sick?

You wanted to laugh. Or cry. Mostly cry.

Instead, your lips stretched into a genuine smile. Your eyes – traitors – watered against all your strength. Something between crying and laughing bubbled out of you, as you took few short steps towards Neymar and hugged him tightly. He exhaled out of surprise but didn’t even take a second before he hugged you with the arm that wasn’t holding the bottle.

His eyebrows furrowed, as he disregarded you with worry. You had never been an overly clingy or affectionate person and, against his own wishes, he had let you take all the space you needed.

After a half of minute of comfortably silent hugging and him rubbing your back, you stepped back.

- Now you’re worrying me, princess, - he chuckled, as he released you. – Did someone die?

Just our relationship.

Now it was your turn to chuckle.

- You have something against my hugs?, - you tried and failed to joke, quickly turning around, so he can’t read your eyes. – I thought you wanted more PDA...

You heard him laugh, as he put the bottle back into the fridge.

- Well, don’t stop on my account, sweetheart. Just let me take a shower so we both aren’t sweaty, and go nuts on hugging me...

You gulped down your tears and stepped into the hall. Just few more minutes. Just few more and you’re free.

Free.

What a joke.

Free to not see hurt in his eyes, as he reads about the media accusing you.

Few minutes was too much time...

- Hey, - you turned back and ran into Neymar yet again, as he was exiting the kitchen. – How about I go alone, huh? It’s just a short trip to the store. You should relax.

Something similar to amusement danced in his eyes, as he put his hands on your upper arms to steady you.

- Are you trying to get rid of me?

You opened your mouth to fix the mistake.

- Honestly, I’m hurt, - he put his left hand over his heart, faining offense. – I thought that being in a relationship would mean fun trips to get milk at 3 in the afternoon...

Him pretending to get hurt with such a serious expression on his face twisted the knife lodged in your already bleeding heart. You swallowed hard and broke the eye contact.

He took your face in his palms and turned it back against him.

- I don’t know what’s going on with you today but we’ll fix it, okay? – he sounded so sure and you wanted to throw those words back in his face. – Just ten minutes, okay?

You didn’t want to lie more so you just nodded and stepped back. He looked at you for a moment and turned towards the guest bedroom.

- Aren’t you going to go up to our room? – you questioned.

- Nah, the water pressure’s better here, - he said, entering the room.

That could cause some bumps in the road. Your room was upstairs, and him taking the shower upstairs would give you enough time to open the garage. In Neymar’s fancy house, the garage could be only opened from inside, from the basement. Apparently, to minimize the possibility of robberies. The garage door opening can be heard on the first floor.

Though he was taking a shower so... There could be possiblity he wouldn’t be able to hear it.

His car was still out front and he had said you were taking his car. On the other hand, even if he would hear the garage door open, you could just lie, again, and say you wanted to take yours.

The moment you heard the water start, you took your bag from the hall, keys and threw open the basement door. Once you had unlocked your car, you put the bag inside and went to open the garage door.

Piece of shit high-security system, you swore, as you took your phone to look up the code.

Neymar had tried to teach you the method of automatically opening the garage from an app on your phone but you never bothered and had to go down to the basement every time to open the door manually. It took you about a minute to put in the key code and unlock the door.

Once you did, you went to pull the door up by the lever, just to do exactly that and, while your eyes were adjusting to the natural light, to once again run into someone’s chest. Someone who stood right outside the garage door, was towering over you and smelled exactly like your boyfriend.

- Shit, - you muttered, as you took him in.

The same hoodie, the same sweatpants, the same – very dry and sweaty – hair.

- What the-

- fuck? – there was no sign of amusement in Neymar’s eyes.

Or suspicion. Or anger, for that matter. What there was – tons of – was disappointment, and somehow that was worse.

- I think we should take my car, - you tried to lie your way out one last time.

He inhaled and very slowly, very patiently exhaled, as if trying to gather all the patience in the world.

You calmly took a few steps back but the backs of your legs touched the front of the car. For every step you took back, Neymar took one forward and ended up crowding you against your car.

He looked at you with immense disappointment and hurt. Closing his eyes for a short period of time, he breathed in one more time and opened them again. This time, there was only anger.

- So you weren’t going to leave me, right? You were just going to drive the car out front and wait for me, weren’t you, Y/N? – he challenged you, his fingers combing through the hair on your scalp before he roughly pulled them to make you look up at him.

You physically couldn’t open your mouth to make another lie. No more.

- Your things missing from the hall was just me being tired and seeing stuff, right? The bag you kicked under the table was for shopping, no doubt. And you, - the intense look in his eyes, as he pushed you back a bit more so you’d have to sit down on the hood of the car, was terrifying, - you hugging me as if one of us was going to die tomorrow, that was my imagination too, wasn’t it?

Once you gathered enough courage to open your mouth, you threw out the most wrong words you could:

- I was gonna leave a note.

Against his better judgement, Neymar laughed. A humorless, dry laugh but still. He rested his forehead against yours, as he slowly drew circles on your scalp with his fingers.

- You were gonna, - he laughed some more, as if the thought alone appeared ridiculous to him, - you were gonna leave me a note? Pray tell – what could you possibly write to justify all this?

You flinched.

So he knew... He knew about the cheating rumors. And he asked for justification. So that meant he believed them? The paparazzi. The media.

- I would’ve apologized for leaving without notice, - you said in a small voice, pulling his hands away from your body. – But I didn’t want for you to break up with me in person.

Neymar’s eyes danced all around your face, searching for something with solid focus.

- It’s easier that way.

The short confusion was overpowered by anger and despair once again.

- Easier for who? – he took a step back and brushed through his hair with fingers. – For you? You didn’t want to break up with me in person, like an adult, so you decided to what? It would be less of a bother to just leave?

You won’t cry, you won’t cry, you repeated in your head, trying to keep up a stable demeanor.

- Do you think it’s easy for me? On top of everything else, you and your entire fanbase are thinking I cheated when I didn’t! – you raised your voice and it, of course, immediately cracked. – I go see one friend and I’m the bad guy! You think that is easy for me?

Neymar blinked. He looked you over once more with wide eyes before slowly stalking towards you.

- You were leaving... – he started, lifted his eyes up, inhaled and turned back to you. – Why do you think you were leaving?

You snorted and stood up from the hood. What did he want – for you to admit that you did cheat when you didn’t?

- I’m so fucking done, - you muttered and turned to get to the driver’s seat.

Next thing you knew – an arm around your waist lifted your feet from the ground and you were put back on the car’s hood. You huffed, now angry and irritated, and started to get down again, before two arms caged you in.

You had no choice but to look into Neymar’s eyes, as he leaned over you to the point where you had fallen on your back if you hadn’t put your hands on the car to support yourself.

- You lift your ass up one more time and I swear to god, I’ll bring down those cuffs we use in the bedroom, cuff both of us together and you’ll have no choice but to talk to me, - he said, completely serious.

That’s a bluff.

- You know better than anyone that I only allow those to stay on, - challenge in your eyes turned both of you on, - those are too loose for me. I could always take them off with no key.

You could. That part was true. The false entrapment was both a turn-on and a relief for you.

The lack of surprise in Neymar’s eyes said everything you needed to know.

He always knew.

Of course.

- You don’t want to play with me right now, - he said in a husky voice. – I’m frustrated enough I will tie both of us together with a shoe lace if I have to.

The stare-off lasted for just a few seconds that felt longer than they were. You broke the eye contact first and blew out an exhausted breath. Then you looked up at him, defeated and calm.

- I didn’t cheat.

His eyebrows shot up. He looked so surprised that, for a second, you questioned whether he had even seen the article.

- Cheat? What a-

- Someone took a photo of me and Eddie, and they released an article about me possibly cheating, - you explained. – But I need you to know now and always – I didn’t cheat.

He looked at you as if you had just punched him in the face out of nowhere.

As if you had grown another head.

As if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

This was it, right? What more was there for you to say?

- I can show you the article, - you offered, quietly.

- I saw the article, - he stood frozen still. – Two days ago.

Both of you stood still for a moment. Like bewildered wax figures. Not saying a word. Not even breathing.

- Did you not? – Neymar almost whispered. – Did you not see it?

You shook your head, regained your voice and added:

- Only about thirty minutes ago.

- So when you said you didn’t want for me to break up with you, - he rubbed his temples, trying to fit everything together. – You thought I wanted to break with you over... – he waited for you to finish.

- Over me cheating...

- Over your cheating rumors?

You nodded.

Wait-

If he didn’t know why you were actually leaving-

- Why did you think I was leaving? – you asked.

He looked down before looking back at you, fidgeting his fingers at the same time.

- I thought you were breaking up, - he explained. – with me.

You laughed. Genuinely. All this crazy day, and this was the funniest thing you’ve heard thus far. Hearing you laugh, even for a stupid reason like that, made Neymar smile.

All the emotions you suppressed today made you burst out in laughter. Your boyfriend thought you would want to break up with him!

- What was I supposed to be thinking? – he started to explain, frustrated but with the same kind, usual, familiar amusement in his eyes. – I see a gossip article about my girlfriend and one of her friends. I assume she’s seen it too. And everything’s alright for two days straight so I don’t think about it. Then I come back home, she’s packed everything up, hugs me as if I’m dying and is almost crying on the spot, - he smiled down at you. – What am I supposed to be thinking?

- That she has her reasons? – you hug him for real this time. – And, hopefully, that she would never cheat, - you add, burrowed in his hoodie.

He pulls back and takes your face into his hands to make you look up.

- That’s why I didn’t bring the stupid article up, sweetheart, - he says. – No point in talking about it if I never, not for a second, entertained the thought.

He hugged you back and inhaled the smell of your shampoo in your hair, calming and comforting.

- I will, however, be getting tighter handcuffs, - he kisses the top of your head. – And I wasn’t joking about cuffing both of us together if you ever refuse to talk shit out, princess. I don’t know what house you grew up in but in this one we don’t run away.

#neymar imagine #neymar jr imagine #neymar jr x reader #neymar x reader #neymar jr #neymar #neymar da silva santos junior #imagine

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nymrs · 2 years ago

Note

ney with an introvert shy gf

#4. OPPOSITES ATTRACT | Neymar Jr

Neymar and you were complete opposites. He loved being around people and would never mind being the centre of attention. Singing and dancing in public - an everyday thing for him. You on the other side had to really get used to people before finally opening up and showing your fun side. Whenever Neymar and you would attend a public event, you couldn’t wait to finally go home. In the beginning of you two dating, when you were just hanging out with his mates, you would simply chill there and actually never say anything until you had to. Since you had his friends and teammates around you all the time, it got better for you of course. When it came to paparazzi and Neymars fans though, you couldn’t seem to jump over your boundaries. They knew who you were, what you looked like, but you’d always turn stiff and silent when a camera was around.

And that was the exact same case now. Neymar and you had to attend one of his clubs public events. You’d prefer to stay home and wait for him, but you couldn’t leave him hanging. It was a very important event for Ney and his mates' wives and girlfriends would be there too. "Minha beleza [my beauty]", he smiled watching you from the doorway, "Você está lista? [are you ready]" You took a last glance into the mirror and sighed, "I'm not sure. I'm still torn between this dress and the black one. What do you think?" The dress you wore was simple, but it was a bright red. Usually, you’d prefer to wear something more decent, but Neymar bought you the dress some weeks ago, saying you should save it for a special occasion. You knew he would love to see you in it, but you disliked wearing bright colours in public, you didn’t want to stand out. "I love seeing you in red, you know that", he winked and took a few steps towards you. You chuckled before he finally put his arms around your waist and placed a shirt kiss onto your lips. "Don't worry babe, you're gorgeous."

At the event, the two of you were seated with the rest of his club, having dinner and casually talking to each other. When Neymar and the boys had to give some interviews, you decided to spend the time with Antonela and Jessica. Whatever these two have been talking about, you didn’t even care to listen - Neymar was the only one you gave your full attention to. Him in a suit. You didn’t know what exactly it was, but it just made you weak, no matter how often you’ve seen him in these clothes before. While your eyes wandered up and down his figure, you didn’t even realise he was walking towards you until he finally stood right in front of you with a huge smile on his face, “Enjoying the view?" You looked up at him, then quickly took your eyes off him again as you tried to hide the fact you were blushing. "Time for the carpet", he said, holding out a hand for you. You stared at him in confusion, not quite understanding his gesture. "Are you finally coming with me?", he asked as he noticed your irritation. "On the carpet?", you scoffed, "No way Junior."

"It’s only for a few photos, you don’t have to do anything. You don’t even have to talk. Just pose in front of the cameras a little. For me?", Neymar tried to convince you but you responded by shaking your head from left to right, repeating this movement again and again. "As you know, I'm allergic to cameras." He sighed at your sarcasm, his lips in a thin line. The pleading look he gave you was his last try to get you to go with him, but you ignored his pout and took out your phone of your clutch. With his hands in his pocket, he slowly started stepping away from you. You chew on your bottom lip, knowing damn well you disappointed your boyfriend – and you felt guilty. His mates entered the room, coming back from taking pictures; Lionel with Antonela, Marco with Jessica, Marqui with Carol. It would only be Neymar all alone again. You rolled your eyes at yourself, pushing your phone back into your clutch and started jogging after Neymar. He instantly recognised your small steps and stopped his walk. "Thank you", he whispered, giving your hand a light squeeze after intertwining it with his. You entered the hall and your heart was racing due to the amount of people watching you, all cameras directed at the two of you. Neymar led you to the middle of the carpet and naturally started posing. You tried your best to not freak out, but you flinched at every flash and held your breath whenever someone was calling your name. You weren’t used to it, it felt unnatural and awkward to you. Your eyes started blinking heavily, there was no way you could take another flashlight right into your face. Instinctively, you pulled Neymar closer to you and hid your face in the crook of his neck. He first was confused as you did so, but also couldn’t help but smile at how adorable you were. You practically felt how his lips formed a smile, which made you grin to yourself while you were still hiding from the photographers. "Our photos are for sure going to be different from all the others", he chuckled lowly. The feeling of excitement inside of you rose, but to your surprise, in a positive way. You imagined what the journalists got to see now and realised how random you actually were. "What?", Neymar asked when he heard you laughing quietly. You were unable to hold back another laugh. "You really are special, like very very special", Neymar grinned as you finally pulled away from him and stared into his eyes. The two of you simply looked at each other for a short time and then bursted out in laughter. Hearing Neymars laugh made you laugh even harder. Seeing you holding onto your belly, squinting your eyes while still having an arm wrapped around him made him laugh even more. Even the photographers couldn’t stop themselves from smiling at what they’ve just captured. "I'm so sorry", you managed to shout out as Neymar and you were about to leave the carpet.

Returning to your shared house, you continued apologising to your boyfriend. "I don’t know what got into me. I guess it was the nervousness and excitement", you explained yourself. Neymar laughed it off as he got out off his jacket. "Y/N, babe, não se preocupe [don't worry]. Thank you for going with me and making it so much fun. I’d love to see pictures they took", he reassured you, cupping your face between his hands before placing a sweet kiss onto your lips. "Do you think they already released some?", you said, scrolling through your TikTok for you page when you saw they did, indeed. "Ney, olha [look]!" Some fans were fast enough to make edits about your appearance and you were in love with those edits - you watched how you hid your face in his neck, the way he wrapped his arms around you while looking down at you in full adoration, this smile you loved so much forming in his face. The way you both didn’t stop laughing and never let go of each other while doing so. You’ve actually forgot everything around you for a short period of time, blocking out the cameras and photographers, and just enjoyed each others company. This unconditional love could literally be felt through this little screen you were watching those edits on. You smiled to yourself when you noticed Neymar hugged you from behind, watching those edits with his head placed onto your shoulder. "Eu te amo meu anjo [I love you my angel]", he mumbled, pressing a soft lips on your cheek.

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pedrithink · 2 years ago

Text

i don’t feel alright ✩ kylian mbappé

Summary: you went for the first time with kylian to a party, but you didn’t expect to see his ex-girlfriend (she’s mean 😡)

Note: just a little bit of angst and i tried my best, so i hope you guys like it! :)

Kylian puts his arms around your waist and tucks you better into his lap, he knows how much you love being close to him and does everything to make you comfortable.

"It's your first time here, right?" Neymar asks with curiosity in his eyes.

You lift your gaze to him and nod briefly with a small smile. "I've never been here before, I'm not normally one to go out much."

"But I'm changing that." Kylian moves you to sit sideways on his lap so that he can face you as he speaks.

"Unfortunately." You chuckle.

In the meantime, you got lost in the middle of Neymar’s conversation about the Liga’s games and watched the people dancing around with drinks in hand.

For a moment you thought you saw wrong, but you knew better, and you knew VERY WELL who that person next to Tchaga was.

Tchaga came closer and with each step you felt your heart speed up a little more. Why was he bringing her close to you? It was so uncomfortable, you felt uncomfortable with the presence of a person who always teased you.

During the months you and Kylian have been together, she has always made it clear that she doesn't like you and that Kylian’s friends are her friends too. The only thing you had to do was to accept this and keep all this teasing to yourself.

"Hey, doll. How are you? Long time no see." Tchaga pulls you off Kylian’s lap and hooks his arms around your neck pulling you into a hug. It's impossible not to like him, he's always been extremely affectionate and kind to you.

You disengage from the embrace and smile openly at him. "I'm fine, I missed you so much."

Tchaga runs his hand through your hair affectionately and already sets off to greet Neymar and Kylian. When he leaves your field of vision, you see the way Rose looks at you.

Of course she ignores you and goes off to greet the boys with all the happiness in the world, but you let it pass. You won't let it ruin your night.

Conversation goes on and on and you can only get stressed out by the way Kylian doesn't seem to notice in the way she treats him. You hate the way she laughs at him, you hate the way she puts her hand on his knee while talking and you hate even more how no one seems to notice the way she ignores you.

They believe this talk of her wanting to keep their friendship, even after they have been dating for 2 years, and simply ignore how she still loves him and how she still wants to be with him.

These thoughts of negativity come at you and you just want to run away, you just want to get out of there as fast as possible and ignore them until everything is sorted out in your mind.

It's not jealousy, you swear it's not. It's just unfair how everyone seems to ignore how you feel and not even question whether you would be comfortable with her presence there.

You murmur, already getting up to leave. "I'm going to get something to drink."

Kylian turns to you and lets out a smile, already getting ready to get up to walk you to the bar. You put a hand on his shoulder to make sure he stays seated. "Stay there, I won't be long."

He finds your attitude strange and your manner of speaking so serious, he really doesn't understand what has happened. He watches you leave with a frown and is tempted to leave to go after you, but Neymar looks at him and says to leave you alone for a while.

You lean against the bar and feel Kylian’s gaze burning into your back, but you don't turn to face him. You just need to take a deep breath and think straight before you say something that could hurt both of you in the process; you don't want to act impulsively and regret it later.

You order a drink from the barista and just feel your phone vibrating in your front pants pocket, you know it's Kylian and try your best not to pick it up and read the messages, but you can't control yourself.

Kyky 🥰: hey!!!!

Kyky 🥰: What's going on?

You took a deep breath and stuck to answering his messages briefly.

You: Nothing happened, I just felt thirsty.

Kyky 🥰: I know you. Kyky 🥰: Please, don't lie to me.

And he is right, he knows you. He knows you so well that you get annoyed, he knows every single detail about you and he can decipher your every thought and expression.

You: I don't know, Kylian. I really don't know.

You: I only feel like a stranger when she is around you.

You let out a sigh after sending this message, letting this thought that has been troubling you for a long time get out of your mind and transmit it to Kylian causes you a mix of anxiety and nervousness about what he will think.

Kyky 🥰: I'm coming to you, stay there.

You put your cell phone back in your pocket and lean more sharply against the bar counter in expectation of Kylian’s appearance.

Lost in your thoughts, you only feel a pair of strong arms around your waist and Kylian resting his chin on your shoulder.

"You're the most important person in my life" He whispers in your ear and in the meantime leaves a kiss on your neck. "I'm sorry if I made it seem like I was letting you down and that your feelings aren't important."

You let out a tense sigh, the fear of losing Kylian terrifies you in a crazy way.

"I don't want it to sound like I'm forbidding you from seeing your friends, but…" You pause to think of the right words to describe what you are really feeling, "I don't know, Kylian. She doesn't like me because she still loves you, she wants to get back with you and the thought of losing you hurts me and I really don't want to go through another disappointment, I don't know…I…"

Kylian turns you around to face him and stares deep into your eyes. "Hey...Look at me, I'm completely in love with you. I can't even think of another word that defines how I feel about you except love." He sighs and runs his hand through your hair, messing up a few strands. "I hadn't noticed these attitudes of hers and I guess for a moment I was excited about the idea of keeping the friendship, but if she doesn't treat you well and it bothers you, I completely understand and respect that. I want to apologize for not noticing this sooner, but I need you to communicate more when something or someone bothers you, mon amour…" He strokes his thumb across your cheek and looks at you with those dark eyes.

You see the sincerity in his gaze and regret not having spoken to him before, you would have avoided so much inorpotent upset thoughts.

“I was scared to look like a neurotic, but I don’t really feel comfortable with these attitudes of her, Kylian.” He runs his arms around your hip and you melt into the comfort of his arms. He always knows how to make you feel good.

"I will never ignore your feelings and try to put you in that "crazy" position" He caresses your cheek once more and leaves a kiss this time. "I know it's a complicated situation and I apologize again for not asking you instead of just letting her into your life like that, even more now knowing that she treated you badly."

You completely understand his position, especially since you didn't speak or explain your thoughts. Kylian will always find a way to work things out with you and help you sort out your feelings and that's one of the things you love most about him, the way he always makes a point of caring about how you feel.

"Thank you for understanding me, I love you." You first leave a kiss on the cheek, another on the neck and forward your lips to his deepening a kiss to show all your love for him.

Kylian reciprocated, letting one hand slide to your hip while the other went to the back of your neck so he could have control to deepen the kiss even further. After your little show, he separates giving you three pecks. "Let's say goodbye to Tchaga and Neymar and let's go. We have business to discuss, young lady."

He gives you a smirk and pulls you by the waist to say goodbye. Now, more than ever, you know there will be no more ex-girlfriend problems.

#kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe fluff #kylian mbappe angst #kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe x you #kylian mbappe imagine #kylian mbappe fanfic #football one shot #football x reader #football fanfic #kylian x reader #kylian imagines #football imagine

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didishawn · 2 years ago

Note

Part 3 of the kylian fic please, can you make it longer too?

Thank youuuuuu

Number 7 on her back (Kylian Mbappe x Reader) smut

Warnings: smut, Jude and Jobe are still little shits

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5

News travel fast throughout the parisian city, so as soon as you, Jude Bellingham's older sister, showed up wearing the number 7 to a PSG match, that one belonging to the one and only Kylian Mbappe, the news traveled fast, and once the match was over, thanks go's a PSG win, you had thousands of new followers and we're trending topic along missed calls of your brothers and a message from your mother that had your blood turning cold:

Having fun in Paris, hm? Your brother commented on this but I didn't believe him. You bet we are going to have a nice talk once you are back here, young lady

Paris isn't so bad, you think, maybe Kyky will let you stay with him forever.

You are lucky he sat you in a reserved area, not having to deal with the fans as you go down to meet him, waiting for him near the locker room as you heard the joyful screams and the sounds of celebration going on inside.

Your phone pings and you roll you eyes at the messages coming from your brothers:

Ugly Jude: hope you know you will have to be wearing my shirt to lots of matches after this

always saying you don't like the attention then you go wearing Kyky's shirt

by the way, my yellow is much prettier than that ugly blue

I don't know if I prefer you with him or with Erling🤔

Ugly Jobe: for this treason of going off with your boyfriend, you better bet I am telling mum lots of shit so she drags you home all the way from Paris

also, bring me a messi shirt, neymar too, not Kyky's, he can bring it himself so we can meet face to face

he is about to meet meet the jobe bellingham way of fighting if he wants my sister

Your answers are short to bother of them a: I am blocking you to Jude and a: we both know that you will be dragling yourself away after the first punch to Jobe

"Enjoyed the extra special seat?" he asks, mouth meeting yours in a short but sweet kiss, dumb smiles on both of your faces.

"Yeah, it was extra good for my photo to be all over the internet and my mum waiting for me back home to beat my ass"

"Well, no surprise everyone wants to see the gorgeous girl I somehow pulled"

"You talk as if you didn't know I had the biggest celebrity crush on you"

"Had?"

"Have, had, whatever sounds the best for you" he looks you up and down "Done checking me out?"

"I didn't think you would look so good in my shirt"

"Come on, this is not the first time you have seen me in it"

"I know, but seeing you in it again brings me back the memories, makes me want to repeat what happened again right now"

"That's not going to happen, enough scandals for one day"

"Damm, I though the headline: Kylian Mbappe and y/n Bellingham caught having wild, rewarding post-match sex after PSG's latest win"

"I will be giving you a reward, mister, but it surely won't be here"

"Your place of my place?"

"Seeing as in we are in Paris it will have to be your place"

The ride is fast, and as soon as the door closes his lips are on yours, tongue down your throat as he cups your face, no space in between you two.

He separates, looking you up and down, taking out his phone.

"What are you doing?"

He looks mischievous, a cheeky glint on his eye "One last scandal for the day"

He directs you to the window panels, telling you to pose, let everyone see how pretty you are, making everyone know the Kylian Mbappe is taken and at the same time maybe making your brothers a bit mad.

He posts the picture with the caotion: the best reward after a good match 😍😍😍, he tags you, posts it and throws the phone away, he will later see how much it blows up, you too put your phone on silence, knowing the little shits you share blood with will surely have a lot to say about this.

"Is it a bad moment to tell you Jobe wants a Messi and a Neymar shirt?"

"I will take care of it, but, what about me?"

"He says you have to directly give it to him so he can fight you"

"No, offense, but your brothers are two little shits"

"Believe me, I know"

He shakes his head, laughing beford once again turning serious, his hands around your waist, he picks you up and throws you to the couch, body instantly on yours and lips melting together.

His hands are clumsy, naughty and fast at what they do as they unbotton your jeans, one going inside and instantly having you moaning out as his skilled fingers tease you.

Tight circles are made on you clit and your hole is being touched but not filled as you want it to be, and you move along to fully undress you lower part -you know he likes his last name on your back, so you don't care about it.

You are grinding up into him, his boner against your tummy as you moan into each other's mouth.

Everything is so desperate, you have honestly never been into someone as much as you are into him, no one ever has made you feel as good as he does, knowing exactly what buttons to push to have you seeing stars.

You are basically tearing off his t-shirt, you want to admire him whole, he laughs but complies, then finally pushing in a finger but he knows it's not enough, having you used to the size of his cock, having you full of him and his cum.

His pants are off next, your legs around his waist as fingers continue teasing you, three inside, still not enough yet the loving touches being given to your clit have you squirming around, moaning loudly, you want him inside you, you can feel the weight of his member on you thigh.

You are begging him, he likes the sound of it, the sound of your moans and whines, the mouth of his name coming from you. He is not only teasing you, but also himself, if it were for him he would have fucked you back on the stadium, but he respects you way too much for that -but if you were to ever ask him to do it he would comply without a doubt.

His lips are on your neck, leaving a reminder amongst the others of how good he makes you feel, your sounds are a higher pitch, he knows you are close, and honestly the sounds are almost enough to have him cumming untouched.

But the man, as always the tease, stops.

He doesn't give you any time to complain though as he spins you around, having you and all fours for him, his surname and number on full display, it makes him possessive, proud, he loves it.

He reaches for his phone, ignoring the notifications as he snaps a picture, through glossy eyes you turn to him, confused.

"Don't worry, this one is for my eyes only"

The phone is thrown away once more, in his hands is his large cock, he jerks himself off, preparing for the heavenly heat your insides are as he grabs into you ass, enjoying the plush feeling of it, now do unmarked but by the time the night ends it won't be like that, of that you can be sure.

He lines un with your entrance, he doesn't waste any time, filling you up from the go, groaning at the tightness, the feeling will never be one he gets used to.

You face buriea into the couch, letting into it the loud sound of your moans and begs, it's all rough, animalistic, brutal, no time for doubt, he fucks you decisively, how you like it, his one true reward after a victory, the only one he will ever want from now on.

He is in control, he takes you as if he were in heat, moving you how he likes it -no complains from you-, as if you were his very own sex doll, alive to serve him and receive the inmense pleasure he gives you.

You play with your clit, his balls a harsh push against your ass, they are heavy, leaving the untarnished skin now red. Everything is so red, a way too fuck away the stress, a way to relieve yourselves even if there is nothing wrong going on, it's only but an excuse, even if there are no excuses needed when it comes to Kylian Mbappe fucking you.

He leans forward to have his lips biting into you neck, kissing your back, there is no space in between the two of you, you can feel the way both his abs and balls tighten up, he is close, so are you, cumming and reaching your own extasis, your juices wetting the couch, you would be embarrassed were it the first time this happens, but it's not.

He cums deeply inside you, making you so full of him, feeling as if you were to explode, and when he leaves your insides, he pushes everything inside, so you stay full, then kisses the red skin, a mini reward before the next round starts.

The night ends on his bed, you are cuddled into his chest, long asleep, as he scrolls through the comments on his post, a chuckle leaving him as he sees the ones left behind by your brothers.

judebellingham ew 🤢🤢🤢, please don't make me an uncle, tell her mum saw this and she is so gonna get it when she is back

jobebellingham @k.mbappe be prepared to fight me once you dare to step foot in our house

#kylian mbappe #mbappe imagine #mbappe x reader #mbappe psg #mbappe #psg #paris st. germain #france national team #france nt #football imagine #football player #jude bellingham

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wavypotatochips · 2 years ago

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and for the mbappe recognition, can I request kylian's brother ethan feeling upset bc of how media pressures him to be like his older brother but he doesn't want to worry his family so he keeps it a secret, for some reason he feels like he can open up to kylian's gf and she gives him a pep talk saying he's gonna make his own legacy and accidentally kylian overhears it and feels so happy his little brother trusts her and how nice she is to him that he falls in love with her even more. u can give it ur own spin, this is just an idea, thank u in advance 💓

𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞 | 𝐊𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐛𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: Kylian Mbappe x Female Reader

Word Count : 1.5k

𝘈𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦: SLAAAAAY MORE MBAPPE RECOGNITION!!! Of course I don't mind writing about anyone, but more Neymar and Mbappe please c; teehee Thank you so much for requesting!! I Hope you like how I represent your idea ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚!!

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ REQUESTS ARE OPEN, currently covered in college work so as of now uploads will mainly be on weekends. Thank you for your patience c’: ♥

Kylian asked you earlier in the day if you would mind picking up his younger brother from futebal practice because he wouldn't be able to, and of course you didn't mind. When it was time to pick him up from futebal practice, you did so and brought him home. Considering how much Ethan loved to stay to himself, you did not give his abnormally quiet conduct much attention, but you could still sense something was off. Ethan is currently in the living room scrolling through his phone as you are currently preparing dinner.

Ethan fiddles with his hair as he lets out another sigh seeing a sports channel talk about his performances and comparing him to his brother once more. Ethan is proud of his brother and will always be his number 1 supporter, but he hates how he always gets compared to Kylian. He especially hates when grown men on the sports channel talk about how he isn't good and he would never be like his brother. He tries his hardest to ignore the harsh criticism, but when you constantly hear about it- it tends to build up until you cannot take it anymore. This has been going on for a while now, and the one time he tried to talk to one of his teammates who he considered a best friend, he told him to just ‘try and brush it off’ as the media will always be negative. Well, he tried to listen to his best friend but as a 16 year old, it's not surprising that it can not simply be ignored when it feels as if the public only likes you because they think they have the potential to see your brother. He felt as if when people look at him, all they think about is Kylian Mbappe, not Ethan Mbappe. He begins to contemplate if he should talk to you or not because he does not want to worry you, but he knew you were someone he could rely on. You and his brother have been dating for 3 years now, and anytime there was a minor convince- you always helped him no matter what. He shuts off his phone, deciding it is best to talk to you and begins to make his way into the kitchen.

You were preparing dinner as he was debating what to do. You put on some music and begin to prep your ingredients, carefully chopping and measuring everything. The kitchen smells amazing as you sauté garlic and onions in olive oil, adding in diced tomatoes and a sprinkle of spices.

Next, you start on the main course. You're making grilled chicken marinated in a savory mixture of soy sauce, honey, and ginger. You pat the chicken dry and place it on the grill, watching as it sizzles and cooks to perfection. While the chicken is cooking, you start on the side dish. You're making roasted sweet potatoes with a hint of cinnamon and brown sugar. You slice the sweet potatoes into thin rounds, toss them in a mixture of spices and oil, and place them in the oven to bake.

You can hear Ethan's footsteps when he enters the kitchen, indicating that the music was not played at an excessive volume. "It smells nice," he says as he takes a seat on the bar stool. You smile hearing his compliment, "I'm making chicken and roasted potatoes with asparagus for us! Although your brother is supposed to arrive home later than expected, I don't think we should go hungry until then, am I right?," you chuckle. He scratches the side of his head and nods in agreement before saying, "Hey ummm... Can we talk for a moment, Y/N.... ," he murmurs the final phrase, "There's been something that just has been bothering me."

"Of course," you say, sensing that he wants to open up to you about something personal.

"It's just that...I feel like I'm always being compared to Kylian, you know? Everyone's always asking me if I'm going to be as good as him or just the media constantly nagging my every move. If I mess up just once I just get so much hate, and it's like...I don't know if I can live up to that."

You nod sympathetically. "I can imagine that's a lot of pressure. But you don't have to be Kylian, you know? You can be your own player."

"But that's the thing," Ethan says, looking frustrated. "I want to be my own player, but it feels like everyone's always talking about how I compare to him. Even I do it to myself sometimes."

"Well, you're not alone," you say, trying to reassure him. "Lots of people compare themselves to others, but it's not always a helpful way to think. You're talented in your own right, and you don't have to measure up to anyone else's standards.”

Ethan seems to relax a little, nodding along. "Yeah, I guess you're right. But it's hard not to think about it when it's all people ever talk about."

"I get that," you say as you walk over to grab two plates from the counter. "But you should focus on your own progress and improvement, not what other people think or say. And even though you're young, you have such a huge opportunity to keep on learning and growing as a player. You have so much potential and you're constantly improving."

"But I keep making mistakes," he says with a sigh as he watches you beginning to prep the plates.

"Mistakes are a part of learning.You're going to make mistakes, but that doesn't mean you're not good enough. It means you're growing and learning. You have so much potential, and I believe in you. Just keep practicing, keep pushing yourself, and don't worry about what anyone else thinks or says. You're doing great." You speak while you put food on both plates, along with a fork and a knife, on each plate.

He stays quiet for a moment as he takes in the words that you tell him. A small smile appears on his face, seeming to feel a little better. "Thanks. I guess I just need to work harder."

You take both plates and set them both on the kitchen island, moving one over to Ethan as you explain, "You don't need to work harder, you just need to believe in yourself."

"And if you're really upset about it, you can always talk to Kylian about it," you say as you start chopping the roasted chicken into smaller pieces. " We both know how unfavorable the media can be toward him, and I am not a futebol star like you, so my advice may not be the greatest."

Ethan looks thoughtful. "Yeah, I guess I could talk to him about it. Thanks for listening, though. I feel like I can trust you.” He takes a bite of the asparagus.

"Of course I'm always here if you need to talk! And even though I'm not the best futebol player, if you ever need someone to talk to or to practice with, I'm here for you. I mean who knows, maybe I'll just cross you up." You both laugh, knowing that you could definitely not do that.

When you two were eating the delicious supper you had prepared, neither of you realized that Kylian had arrived home earlier than intended and had heard all you said.

Kylian quietly opens the front door of his house and makes his way to the kitchen. As he approaches, he can hear the sound of your voice, and his younger brother's voice responding. Curiosity piqued, he peeks around the corner and sees you sitting with his brother, giving him some advice and offering some kind words. He doesn't want to interrupt, so he decides to listen in. As he hears you speak, he can't help but feel a sense of pride and admiration for you. You have always been a kind and caring person, but to see you taking the time to give his brother such motivational words is truly inspiring. Kylian takes a step back and leans against the wall, listening in to the conversation. He hears you tell his brother that he's capable of anything he sets his mind to, that he has so much potential, and that he doesn't need to compare himself to anyone else. Kylian can see the look of appreciation on his brother's face, and he can feel his own love for you grow even stronger. He thinks about how lucky he is to have you in his life, and how grateful he is for all the times you have encouraged him and supported him. He thinks about how you have always been there for him, through thick and thin, and how you always believed in him even when he didn't believe in himself.

In that moment, Kylian knows that he's found someone truly special, someone who brings out the best in him and in those around her. He knows that he'll always be grateful for your love and support, and he can't wait to see where your journey together will take you two.

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sorceresski · 2 years ago

Text

The Babysitter | Neymar Jr

Inspired by another fic I read by @

This gif is so hot…😵‍💫

Reblogs help push my fics out, thank you!☺️

“Do you want this?”

Pairing: Neymar x young!fem reader (reader in their early to mid 20s)

Summary: Weeks of teasing between Neymar and Davi’s babysitter reach a crescendo as Neymar comes home tipsy after a loss seeking comfort and an outlet.

Tags: sexual contact, teasing, babysitter reader, oral! fem receiving, age gap, there will be sexual intercourse, slow burn, a long read I guess

Minors dni

You expected him to walk in any moment now, already anticipating his sour mood which you had come to observe first hand over the past few weeks working as his babysitter. You had watched PSG’s match curled up with Davi in front of the tv in Neymar’s Parisienne penthouse and calling the team’s performance underwhelming would be an understatement. The match ended 2 nil against psg and Neymar had been given a red and sent off the field.

That was 2 hours ago anyway. Now, Davi had dosed off on the couch, resting his head on your shoulder. You began to plan your course of action for when Neymar returned, wanting to keep as much distance between you and him as much as possible.

These days you didn’t trust yourself around him. Neymar was an attractive man and if you didn’t know better you would say he was flirting with you. It began a week after you started babysitting Davi. You were sitting on the floor of Davi’s room, watching him “paint". The top you wore wasn’t particularly revealing but as you hunched over the low table, the girls were very visible(you didn’t know this at the time). You didn’t notice Neymar at the door till Davi looked up and shouted

“Daddy!" Abandoning his paint brushes.

You looked up in surprise, just in time to catch his eyes leave your chest as he looked at Davi. You decided not to dwell on how long he had been standing there watching you two. But in the weeks that followed, you began to feel his gaze as you walked past, stolen glances, “accidentally” walking in on him in a towel fresh after a shower and winks when he said goodbye to you and Davi.

You realised your mind had wandered when you heard shuffling outside the door. It was a few minutes to 12am when Neymar walked in, eyes slightly glazed over, tossing his duffle to the side. The apartment was dimly lit so you couldn’t read his expression as he stopped in his tracks after noticing you on the couch.

"Welcome!” You said, standing up hurriedly. He blinked at you, swaying slightly. He was tipsy. “I’ll take him in," you gestured to Davi. You heaved the boy up and made a beeline to his bedroom, not waiting for a response from Neymar.

You took your time tucking him in and when you came back, Neymar was by the kitchen sink gulping down a glass of water, his jacket tossed on the couch.

“I didn’t expect to meet you here." His gaze was piercing. "You should’ve gone, I’ll pay you for the extra time"

You looked everywhere but at him.

“It’s fine. I stayed because Davi wanted to stay up to watch the match, so he slept later than usual. I’ll just grab my things and go.”

Neymar nodded, turning to head for his room.

"Let me know when you’re about to leave.”

Five minutes later, you were stood outside his bedroom, with your purse and jacket hanging on your arm. You took a shaky breath and knocked.

“Come in”

The room was dark illuminated only by the city lights flooding in though the big windows facing the street. You froze at the entrance when you saw him. He was in front of a full length mirror in sweatpants, a very defined V disappearing below the band.

“Close the door,” he spoke, looking at your reflection in the mirror. You gulped and stepped in, wondering why you were suddenly so obedient.

He stalked towards you. You didn’t know you had unconsciously stepped back until you felt the door knob dig into your back. You felt the heat radiating off him as he came impossibly close. Neymar touched your chin, dragging your eyes from your feet to his. Your breath hitched in your throat.

He leaned in and slumped on your shoulder with a sigh, wrapping his hands around your waist pulling you even closer. As if programmed, you dropped your purse and jacket and wrapped your hands around his shoulders breathing in his scent.

In the mirror behind him, you saw how defeated he looked and you instantly knew he needed comforting. You caressed his back, not sure what was expected of you.

Luckily, he pulled away but before you could recover, he crashed his lips into yours. You closed your eyes, kissing him back, your mind already racing. Neymar jr was kissing you or was it the other way around. Eventually, he pulled back, you both needed to breath.

This time, you looked into his lust filled eyes unabashed. You reached up pulling him down to your level and kissed him. Slow, deliberate but desperate. His hands fell below you waist, groping your ass through your pants, you felt wetness pool at your core. You bit his lip and he groaned into your mouth picking you up. Your legs latched to him as he walked to the bed, beginning to leave sloppy kisses against your neck.

Neymar gently placed you on the bed, positioned himself between your legs and tugged on your shirt. You rested on your elbows, giving him room to lift the shirt off you. He kissed his way from your mouth down to your chest, stopping just above your lacy bra.

He looked up at you, brows furrowed. "Do you want this?” You nodded desperately, not finding your voice in that moment. That was all he needed. Moments later, your bra was off, tossed somewhere as he sucked on your breasts, giving each nipple equal attention. You moaned, fingers caressing his head and back.

He tugged off your trousers and you watched as he stood to remove his, his bulge very visible through his briefs. You bit your lip as you watched him crawl up to you, a sly smile on his face. Neymar kissed you and ground his hips against yours, the only obstruction being both your undergarments.

His hands explored, as if trying to commit your body to memory.

“I’ve wanted this since the first day I saw you,” he said.

He loved how you responded when he sucked on that spot on your neck which didn’t take him long to find. Neymar kissed his way down to your core and you trembled in anticipation as he slowly pulled your panties down your thighs. Neymar kissed your inner thigh, his beard tickling you.

You sucked your breath in anticipation as you watched him finally dip where you wanted him desperately. You moaned as he ran his tongue along your slit, hands automatically reaching down to grab his head.

“You’re so wet," he rasped against your thigh. He flicked his tongue on your bud and you gasped, grabbing the sheets. He continued his ministrations, loving your moans, glancing up occasionally to see the effect he had on you. You thrashed in his sheets as he introduced a finger, then another into you.

“Oh fuck, daddy,” you cursed beginning to feel that familiar tingling in your stomach, he knew you were close. You came with a loud moan, grinding against his face, chest heaving.

“Daddy?” He asked, teasing you as he came back up with a satisfied smile on his face. You smiled back as he kissed you, tasting yourself on his lips.

He had taken off his briefs somehow and began to line himself at your entrance. You looked down and gasped at his size, just as he began to push into you.

Neymar groaned as he bottomed out in one thrust. “You’re so tight,” he breathed against your neck giving you time to adjust before he began thrust into you. The pain you felt quickly gave way to pleasure, raising your hips to meet his thrusts. He took one nipple in his mouth, his hands giving attention to the other breast and alternating between the two.

He placed your legs on his shoulders, the new angle giving him access to that spot deep within you. You moaned and scratched at his back, the beginnings of another climax creeping on you. He quickened his movements when he felt you begin to clench around him, your moans driving him crazy. His thrusts became irregular and strained as he chased his pleasure and yours.

You came all over him with a deep moan, rising to wrap your arms around his neck. He pushed into you a few times before pulling out, his seed splashing on your belly as he came with a groan.

“Fuck,” he said as he kissed you again. Neymar rose to go to the bathroom, returning with a wet towel which he used to wipe you down. He laid beside you and pulled you closer. You rested your head on his damp chest, and sighed deeply feeling sated.

You had just fucked your boss, you thought for a brief moment as his hands rubbing your back lulled you to sleep.

A/n: this is my first fic on here, my first time writing again after about 4 years. And it’s my first time writing smut😵‍💫 Please be nice lol.

#neymar x reader #neymar jr x reader #neymar smut #neymar imagines #neymar fics #neymar

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graneymar · 2 years ago

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hiii, could you write a fic Neymar X fem!reader, when they have been together for like a year and in a sort of a secret relationship, because she is not a famous but a law student, and they wanted their privacy.

she is like 25 and he is 30, I love reading about age gap( but not too much ofc)

you could write about their couple dynamic (including fluff but also some dirty talk and them flirting like a lot) and then they get caught by the paparazzi, and everyone find out about her. Maybe when they were on vacation or something.

idk if you want, but you could also include insta post?? do what you feel it’s right !!

thank u if you will! And sorry for my broken English, I’m Spanish 💕💕

#5. NEYMAR: ONE NIGHT IN IBIZA

SUMMARY: above

WARNINGS: some dirty talk

PAIRING: Neymar x fem!reader

Our relationship was quite complicated. I was an ordinary law student, studying abroad and was in my last year, so I barely had time to spend with my boyfriend, especially due to preparing for the upcoming exams. Neymar, of course, had a really busy schedule and whenever he had a few days off, he took every opportunity to not only visit me, but also his family in Brasil. All these circumstances led to us sometimes not seeing each other for weeks. But if we got to spend some time together, we made sure we would make the best of it. Apart from that, I decided it would be the best for us if we didn't announce our relationship publicly. I wanted to build my career myself and not be "(Your first name + last name), lawyer and Neymar Jrs girlfriend". I didn’t want my professors and other students to treat me differently just because I was dating a famous footballer. Neymar never really liked the idea of us hiding ourselves from everyone, but he respected my decision and told me he would wait until I was ready. Still, he let everyone know he was in a relationship, which led to the press and his fans speculating about who the lucky woman was. Going out in public, we always made sure we were surrounded by the few close friends that knew about us, so no one would assume we went on dates and such.

In conclusion, I barely got to see Neymar, and when I did, I never really got him all to myself. The only time we finally were able to express our love was when we decided to stay at home alone.

"Meu Deus, can you believe it’s already been a year?", Neymar sighed out as my bracelet caught his eyes. For my 25th birthday a couple of months ago, he got me a golden bracelet with our initials and the date we got together engraved. I shook my head chuckling, "Time flies. It really does." Remembering we only had a few more days in peace together, the big smile on my face quickly disappeared. His brow furrowed. "What are you thinking about again?" I turned around when I felt warm tears in my eyes. "Nothing babe, I'm fine", I lied. We were currently on vacation in Ibiza, now on a yacht in the middle of the ocean. I inhaled deeply, watching the waves as I tried to calm down and not break down in tears. He hugged me from behind and placed his head onto my shoulder. "Can we please enjoy the time we have left together before going back to normal?", he mumbled. I blinked a few times, making my tears stay in instead of rolling down my cheeks. "You're right." I turned my head to kiss his cheek. He put on his sweetest smile before letting go of me, smacking my bum. My body twitched for a second. Neymar cheekily smirked and finally turned around, laying down to continue his sunbathe. Without making a move, I simply stood there and watched him relaxing.

A few minutes later Neymar took his sunglasses off, tilting his head to my direction. I saw his eyes going up and down my body. I questioningly raised one eyebrow at him. "You don’t know how bad I want you right now." Playfully I rolled my eyes. He put his hands on his lap, demanding to come and sit on it. I slowly walked up to him, but instead of doing what he wished me to do, I dropped myself right next to him. He smirked because he understood that was my way of teasing him. It was our thing, he loved feeling like he had to "chase" me. His hands tapped a random beat on my thighs. "You know, there’s a bedroom inside. We could spend some time there until we arrive at the port."

"Mhm", I nodded, "And how do you want to spend the time there?" He chuckled before hiding his face into my neck. Feeling his breath already made me get goosebumps all over my skin. "First of all", he started, whispering in a low-tone voice, kissing my neck slowly, "I'll throw you onto the fucking bed, then rip off your bikini, sliding my fingers into you until you can’t help but beg me to finally push him inside you. And…" My eyes rolled back in pleasure. The things he said, his hands going up and down my body, his lips on my neck with his tongue sometimes touching it. Enough to drive me insane already. I bit my bottom lip trying to hold back a moan. One thing I hated about Neymar was, he loved turning me on in public. He loved knowing and seeing him how much I needed him. I wouldn’t go into this bedroom with him now and he knew, but this was his kind of foreplay. I now couldn’t wait to get into our hotel room and he was well aware of that. "And the rest is what you’ll get at home after the party tonight." He pulled away and sat up again, laughing at my pissed off facial expression. I groaned in frustration.

"What party are you talking about?" My eyebrows furrowed. "We promised Cris and Bianca we'd go out clubbing with them tonight, did you forget?"

"Oh, right…", I remembered and pouted my lips, "but I can’t wait for tonight." Neymar grinned and pecked my lips quickly. "Quickie as we get ready maybe?" He winked as I giggled.

Said and done. I actually got what I wanted as soon as we entered the hotel room, but we had to keep it short, too short, since we didn’t have much time to get ready anymore.

Before getting to the club, we decided to eat dinner. "How was it on the yacht?", Bianca asked, while Neymar and Cris were talking about some gaming stuff. "Oh Bi, if you only knew! Even though we were in the middle of nowhere and the only people surrounding us was his staff, you can’t imagine how much I enjoyed it. Finally going out with my boyfriend alone, it almost felt like an ordinary relationship." When I first met Bianca I was afraid she wouldn’t like or even hate me since she was best friends with Bruna, Neymars ex, but she soon turned out to be the most supportive of us. "I believe so. It must be exhausting only being able to feel like a real couple when being home alone. How long do you want to wait to finally announce your relationship?" I shrugged, "I don't know at all to be honest. Actually, I'm tired of hiding, but on the other side, I don't want all my clients coming to me just because they know me through Neymar. I want them to choose me because they value me as their lawyer, not because I possibly could be privileged thanks to my boyfriend." I didn’t even notice Neymar and Cris stopped talking and listened to our conversation. "But are you planning to go back to Paris after you finished studying or are you staying there? You know, staying there would be beneficial for your career", Cris said. I stuttered and looked around as I was thinking of an answer. I felt Neymars eyes on me and of course, he wanted me to come back to Paris and move in with him after I finished my studies, but Cris was right. This was something I never worried about before. Neymar noticed I was getting nervous and put his hand on mine. "That’s not a topic for today, we have enough time to think about it later", he stated and threw me a soft smile. Bianca and Cris agreed and changed topics.

Entering the club, we had some drinks before finding ourselves on the dancefloor. Whenever Neymar and I danced, we were careful so we would not get too close. Bianca was always jumping in between us when she thought we went too far. However, we had the time of our lives and actually got drunk at some point. I went to the bar to get us some drinks and scrolled through my instagram for you page while waiting, when an article about Neymar and Bruna Marquezine caught my eye. They were writing about how perfect they were, why they broke up, etc. According to them, Neymar broke up with Bruna because she refused to move to Paris for him, she prioritised her own career. My heart stopped for a second the moment I remembered Cris' question. Hundreds of thoughts ran through my mind. How were Neymar and I supposed to maintain our relationship if I decided I would not go back to Paris? He broke up with Bruna after being together for such a long time, no doubt he would leave me too. My breathing got heavier. I tried to organise my thoughts, but all I was able to think of was Neymar leaving me sooner or later. "Are you okay?", the barkeeper asked, placing the drinks right in front of me. I realised tears were rolling down my cheeks. I wiped them away rapidly. "Uh yeah, I'm fine. Thank you." Bianca made her way to me in order to help me with the drinks. I needed to get out of there. "Bi, I'll go home now. I'm not feeling well", I told her. She looked slightly confused and observed me for a few seconds. "Did something happen? You were laughing and dancing like five minutes ago." I shook my head from left to right and grabbed my clutch. "No, nothing happened. I'm just tired and probably drank a little too much", I answered and faked a smile as I stepped away from her after saying goodbye. Right when I got out of the club, I felt someone pulling me back by my shoulder. "Y/N!", I recognised Neymar shouting after me, "Y/N, why do you want to go home? What’s wrong?" I kept looking at the ground, I didn’t want him to see my wet cheeks. "Tired and drunk. Just need to sleep", I shortly replied after swallowing hard. "You are not drunk. At least not that drunk. I know somethings bothering you. What is it? Talk to me."

"Let’s discuss it later, Ney. Go have fun. I just need some rest", I answered and was about to turn around again, but Neymar held me back. "Hey, don’t act like that now. If you're leaving, I'm leaving." I shook my head. "No Ney, please."

"Yes I will, Y/N. If you want to stay mad for I don’t even know what…", he began, but I quickly interrupted him. "I'm not mad, Neymar, at least not at you." His facial expression showed he was completely lost. "If you’re not mad at me, who are you mad at then? Can you now please tell me what happened, did someone say or do anything?" He kept on asking questions until I couldn’t hold it back any longer. "I'm mad at myself because I don’t know if I can give you what you want and this will make you break up with me sooner or later and I hate myself for letting it go this far but I can’t help it because I'm fucking selfish and… and… I just don’t know what to do." Neymars eyebrows furrowed, he was unable to speak and had a hard time understanding what I was saying inbetween the sobs. "W-Why would I… why would I break up with you? Why are you selfish? What the hell are you even talking about?" I sighed out loud. "What was the reason you broke up with Bruna Marquezine?" This question was enough for him to understand what all this was about. "Y/N, that was a whole other story. Bruna kept on promising me things she wouldn’t do. When you and I got together I knew exactly what I was getting myself into - I wanted this, and I still do. We have a whole year to think about what to do and if you decide to go for your career, I will gladly support you. It’s not like you’re making empty promises." I couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down my face. "Neymar, I know you want a family, I know you want someone to come home to everyday. I, on the other side, don’t even know anything anymore. I don’t know if I want to go for my career, damn sometimes I don’t even know if I want to be a lawyer. But what I surely don’t want is you to waste your time on me when I have no idea what I am doing with my life." His eyes filled with sadness before he hugged me tightly. "Meu amor, you're in your mid-twenties. It’s a confusing time. Some of your friends have their own business, others are married or having kids. No matter what you are doing now, you feel like somethings missing, like you are missing out on something. You feel pressured, I get that. You have to make some of the most important decisions in your life right now, you’re afraid to go the wrong way. But you, my love, are an intelligent, smart, independent woman. I know you will make the right decisions. And no matter what you choose to do, I will be with you." He gave me a short yet passionate kiss. "Being in your mid-twenties is shit, trust me, I know." I quietly chuckled. "Stop talking like you're my grandfather, you're five years older than me." Neymar laughed as he softly wiped my almost dried tears away with his thumb. "All I'm saying is I know exactly what it feels like to think that no matter what you do, it’s wrong. And I want to be the last person to make you feel pressured." Without saying a word, I put my hands around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. "Te amo", I whispered.

"Eu te amo tanto, Y/N", he remained silent for a moment, "Still wanna go home?" I nodded. Neymar went inside to get our stuff and tell Bianca and Cris we're leaving. Meanwhile, I went on instagram again. "What the fuck", I murmured as I saw myself on my for you page. There were photos and videos of Neymar and me outside the club, hugging and kissing. They had to be taken just a few minutes ago. I turned around to Neymar staying behind me already. "We fucked up. I didn't even check if there were any paparazzi", he said looking at my phone screen. As I refreshed the page in shock, I saw even more pictures of myself. "How did they get those?" "Oh, I have these on my story", Neymar admit. He loved presenting me everywhere, even though he didn’t show my face. I raised an eyebrow at him and checked his instagram story.

"I haven’t even seen these pictures. Why didn’t you show me? They're good." He smiled watching his story on my phone. "You know what will even be better now? Not hiding your gorgeous face anymore." My phone started buzzing. I got endless instagram notifications, Neymars fans following me, liking my pictures and commenting on them. First thing I noticed was most comments were complimenting and congratulating me. "Your fans are fast as fuck." Neymar laughed, "See, they love you already."

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