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lovren-la-vida-luka · 6 years

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Unbreak My Heart

This was an anon request for something “super mega angsty” with Krama. I’ve never written anything like this before, so I hope it turned out okay!

Pairing: Andrej Kramaric x reader Words: 2000 Warnings: some swearing, self doubt/low self esteem, arguing

“I love it when the sky turns pink,” you muse, pointing up at the cotton candy clouds above you. “Isn’t it pretty?”

“It is,” he replies, placing his hand on yours. “Not as pretty as you though.”

You laugh, jumping to your feet. “Let’s see if it’s reflected in the lake!”

Andrej follows you, and you find that it is. The parts of the water not shaded by trees reflect the pink and orange hues from above, and you resist the urge to jump in. It’s not hard to see why this woodland clearing is your favourite place. You came here stargazing on your second date, and it’s been somewhat of a second home ever since. Whether it’s a picnic on a sunny morning, or watching the sun go down and the stars appear with nothing but each other (and maybe some rakija), this is your place. Your initials are carved into a tree stump, and you’ve named some of the animals after his teammates – Dejan the raccoon actually comes close so you can give him fruit from your picnics now, and you both know that “Raketa” is a different squirrel every time, but that doesn’t stop you saying hi excitedly whenever you see an orange flash scurry up a tree.

This night is as perfect as always. But this time, you don’t say jokingly say goodnight to the animals when you leave. You say goodbye. Andrej doesn’t notice.

He chalks the quiet car ride home back to your place up to you being tired, and it’s only when you get into the house that he notices something is wrong. You look different. He’s not sure how, but you do. The spark you usually have after visiting your place isn’t there, and when he tries to hug you, you take a second too long to settle into his embrace.

He pulls back and looks at you, a confused frown taking over his face. “Y/N, are you okay?”

When you don’t answer, he gently tilts your chin upwards to look into your eyes. “Ljubavi, what’s wrong? I thought you had a good time tonight!”

“I did,” you whisper with a sad smile. “It was perfect. And that makes this even harder.”

Andrej stares at you, slowly coming to a realisation. He lowers himself slowly into his armchair – no, your armchair, just the one he’d always used, until today – shaking his head. “No…” he whispers. “Why? We were fine. Everything seemed perfect, did I miss something? I love you, you love me-“

“I loved you,” you interrupt, begging your voice not to waver. “Past tense.”

He looks up at you, tears beginning to roll from his warm blue eyes down his cheeks. “I don’t believe you,” he chokes. Part of you wants to tell him he’s right, hold him close and apologise a million times for ever saying it, but you know you can’t.

“Andrej, please. I don’t want to see you hurt like this… don’t make this harder for yourself,” you tell him, keeping your voice as cold and flat as you can, determined not to let him see that your words are destroying you as much as they are him.

“But… tonight…” he croaks, grasping at his T-shirt, his hair, anything in his reach, just desperate to hold onto something.

“I wanted one more memory,” you say, barely able to hold back your own tears. “I just wanted everything to be perfect one last time.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, it was,” he whispers. “Thank you, Y/N. For that one last perfect moment, and for every other over the past few months. For trying. For loving me… even if it’s past tense.”

It isn’t. “It is. I’m sorry.”

He nods in defeat and gets to his feet with a sigh.

You want to hit him, you know it’s unreasonable, and you don’t want to see him hurting any more than he already is, but part of you wishes he’d scream, shout, beg, trash the house, something. While you know you should be relieved that it seems easy for him, it feels like a dagger through your chest.

He walks out of the door without another word, and suddenly you feel lost. You regret never letting him buy the terrible ornaments he pointed out, or light his dumb candles, anything that would give your house even a touch of his presence, because right now it feels like he was never there. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to forget him, but still, it feels like he was never there and it’s the worst feeling you’ve ever experienced.

You sit in his – no, your – armchair and bury your face into the back of it, trying to convince yourself it smells of him. Maybe it does… you can’t quite tell. Somewhere between the warm, woody scent and the bittersweet memories, your eyes close one last time and you drift into sleep.

According to the clock, it’s midnight when you’re awoken by the doorbell. Still half-awake and hazy, you stumble to the door and realise a second too late that you shouldn’t have opened it.

“I tried to just walk away. I love you so fucking much, Y/N, and I just wanted you to be happy, even if that’s not with me. But please, at least tell me why.”

The pleading in his voice makes you feel sick, you can’t believe you’ve made him, your Krama, your everything, feel this way. Unable to take a second more, and knowing that an explanation will only make things worse, you whisper one last apology and push the door closed. You crumple to the floor behind the door, covering your mouth with your hand to muffle the howl of despair that escapes from your lips.

There’s an abrupt, hammering knock on the door, making you jump away from it. He calls your name, begging you to talk to him. His voice is wracked with sobs, and you clamp your hands over your ears, curling into a ball on the floor. “No, no, no…” you whimper over and over, listening to his voice becoming quieter as he resigns himself to the fact that you’re gone.

Eventually, everything goes quiet, and you assume he left. You stay where you are, unable to move, weeping silently as you replay his cries in your head on a loop. Suddenly, you hear the letterbox open, and before you have time to process it, a folded sheet of paper falls onto you, brushing your shoulder on its way to the floor.

Hands trembling, you pick up the paper and unfold it. There are wet specks on it, where tears have clearly fallen on it, and to save what’s left of your heart you convince yourself they’re all yours. Through the tears in your eyes and the smudged ink, it’s difficult, but you begin to read.

Dear Y/N,

I don’t know what I did, or where it all went wrong, but I’ve accepted that I never will, and I won’t bother you again.

This is my goodbye. To those perfect memories, and the imperfect ones too. To our inside jokes, even the ones you didn’t really get. To all of our plans, that are now what-ifs. To you.

I will never forget you. I can only hope that you’ll forgive me one day.

Yours forever, even if I never truly was,

Andrej

By the time he’d written his name, his handwriting was almost illegible. You try to shake the image of him, crying, hands shaking, writing his final words to you against the front door that you shut in his face, but you can’t.

You stand up, slowly, legs shaking and head spinning, and slowly open the door to find him sitting on the doorstep, head in his hands. “Andrej…” you whisper, and he looks up at you with red, puffy eyes full of pain and exhaustion.

“I’m going, okay? I’m just trying to calm down a little before I call a cab.”

His voice is flat and raspy, and it kills you. You can’t do this.

“Don’t,” you breathe. “Don’t call a cab. Come inside. Let’s talk about this.”

Andrej looks unsure, but as you offer your hand to help him to his feet, he takes it, and doesn’t pull away as you lead him indoors. You close the door behind you, and look up at him, not sure what to do next.

“Why?” he asks, and you gesture for him to sit down in his – your? – no, his, armchair. He doesn’t. He sits down tentatively on the edge of the sofa, looking at the floor, and you feel your tears start to flow again. He always sat in that chair. He’s acting like he doesn’t belong here… of course he is, you told him he didn’t. The least he deserves is the truth, you decide, and so you take a deep breath and explain everything.

“You deserve someone better,�� you tell him quietly. “Your teammates have girls who look like models… hell, half of them are models. They’re all so perfect, and I’m just me. You deserve perfection too. Not me, and my average looks and emotional baggage and…” your voice trails off as he stands up and walks towards you, a storm raging in the blue sky of his eyes.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N?” he growls, his face inches from yours. You’ve never felt scared of him before, but you feel your pulse start to race as his lip raises into a snarl. “I SAID, ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?”

“No,” you sniffle, avoiding his eyes. He takes hold of your face, firmly but gently, and forces you to look him in the eye.

“Are you finding it hard to look at me?” he snaps. “I hope so. I hope it hurts to see the damage you’ve done. You broke my heart, and all because you thought you weren’t good enough for me? Isn’t that for me to decide?!”

Unable to respond, you choke out another sob and push his hand away from your face.

“Don’t you understand? The fact that my teammates are with models or whatever the fuck… that means I could be too. Yet, I chose you. Because to me, you are perfection. If you’re average, there’s no hope for anyone else. And I don’t remember you kidnapping me - I chose you, you idiot. I chose you every day.”

He pauses, and when he speaks again, his voice is softer. “I’d still choose you every day. I hate you right now, but fuck if I don’t love you with my whole heart. Present tense. Future tense. Every tense.”

“I love you too,” you tell him, and somewhere deep within his aching heart he knows you mean it. “Not past tense. Present. Future. Not past… God, it killed me to say that.”

“Sorry if I don’t have much sympathy,” he snarks, and you step forward and gingerly touch his arm.

“I’m sorry, that was a stupid thing to say,” you admit, gently tracing your fingertips down his arm. “I’m an idiot.”

“Damn right you are,” he sighs, but a second later he takes your hand in his. “You absolutely are. But I still choose you. Can we try again? Molim te, ljubavi. I don’t want to lose you, especially now I know how ridiculous your reasons were.”

You nod your head, choke out a “yes” and pull him close, sobbing into his chest, breathing in the scent of his cologne.

“I’m so, so sorry, Andrej,” you cry, grasping fistfuls of the soft fabric of his T-shirt.

“I know,” he whispers, and you feel his strong hand caressing your hair. “Let’s get you to bed, yeah? You’re exhausted, I can feel it.”

“Stay with me,” you plead, and suddenly, you find yourself lifted off the ground. You automatically wrap your legs around his waist and bury your face in the crook of his neck.

“Don’t you worry,” he says softly, placing a tender kiss on your head as he carries you towards the bedroom. “I’m going nowhere.”

Tag list: @living-lovren @domo-no-domo-yes @wordpuddle @croatian-nt @zadarskabagudina @ivan-rakitic @tinymodric @croatianstan @igecko1320 - as always, ask if you want to be added/removed from the tag list!

#fanfic #andrej kramaric #x reader #croatia nt #angst #croatia nt fanfic

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croatian-nt · 4 years

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Sequences of error

First of all I just wanna say I have no excuse for this except that it was @wordpuddle 's fault, and my own for talking about random hcs after midnight. Please don't take ANYTHING from this fic seriously

Or, an au where Mario becomes a head coach about a year after WC. It changes some things. Most of them just become more chaotic

It started with a red card. Or well, no, that wasn't quite true. It started with Dalić leaving few months ago. And with Mario becoming a head coach.

(Luka was still convinced it was entirely his fault. Or mostly, at the very least. Asshole.)

It was...weird. Not necessarily bad, but definitely weird. The whole dynamic between them shifted significantly and Luka felt out of balance.

Not that that wasn't the case before with Mario. Still, somehow, this was worse.

Either way...maybe it didn't start with Rog getting red card, but it surely didn't get better with it. And Luka thought the other Marko would be more likely to get a red. They spent too much time tigether, it seemed.

That wasn't what made Luka lose his composure thought. No. It was after the game, when they were all in the dressing room. When Mario was supposed to say whatthey did and didn't do well.

"Marko...you played well, until that red card. But if I am being quite honest, it was Ronaldo and I would have probably done the same."

If he was in the movie, Luka was pretty sure someone would put the background noise of glass breaking when they focused on his face.

"What the fuck?!"

Everyone turned to stare at him. Luka could swear half of them were shocked, and the other half just waited to pull out popcorn. It was infuriating.

"You can't just tell him it's okay that he got a red? Are you out of your mind?"

Mario easily met his gaze, not at all worried about his outburst. Was he calmer since he retired? Or did Luka just forget?

"I didn't say it was okay. I said I'd do the same."

Luka closed his eyes. Counted to ten. Then to twenty.

"That's essentially the same thing, in case you didn't know."

Mario sighed. "Fine."

He picked up one of the shoes on the side...wait why were there extra shoes there? What-

Mario threw it at Rog. Or well, he tried to, but instead it ended up hitting Mateo.

"Ouch. What-"

"My bad. That was meant for Marko."

Luka buried his face in his hands.

"Is this hell?" He whispered to himself.

Rog, who was having an awfully fun time, all things considered, leaned a bit to the side, towards Luka.

"Of course not. It's super hell."

Luka looked up, raising his eyebrows. Rog just shrugged, leaning back.

"It's because you are gay."

On another thought...Luka really didn't want to know. Pjaca, despite being on the other side of the dressing room, and leaned on the wall, leaned forward, towards Rog.

"I see you are a man of culture as well."

Before Rog could answer, Ante kicked Pjaca in the leg that supported his weight, and Pjaca fell on the floor.

"At least spare the rest of us your flirting skills. If I hear about Destiel one more time from you two, I will change your Netflix password."

Pjaca groaned from the floor. Mario picked up another shoes and threw it in Ante's general direction. He missed again, and it would have hit Livi in the face, if he didn't catch it at last moment. He shot Mario a glare.

"I would appriciate if no one breaks my nose with a shoe. I don't think you'd survive another game without me."

Domo picked up the shoe that hit Mateo and threw it at Dejan, who was on his phone. It made his phone clatter to the floor. The glare he shot Domo could kill a man.

"Well," Domo said, "I suppose we should be glad Mario's coaching skills are better than his throwing ones-"

Domo ducked just in time to avoid not one, but two shoes flying in his direction. The one Dejan threw his way hit him in the shoulder and the one Mario threw...hit Luka instead.

Suddenly, everyone froze. The silence was thick and opressive and Luka's gaze slowly zeroed on Mario.

"Did you just throw a fucking shoe at me?!"

At that, Perišić and Domo shared a look and stood up.

"Now kids, let's leave the parents to talk! Everyone. Get out."

The dressing room quickly cleared, until only Mario and Luka were left there. The rest of the team found themselves outside.

"What was that?" Uremović asked.

"Yeah, are they going to kill each other? They seemed close to killing each other back there," Juarnović added.

Domo and Dejan shared a look and burst out laughing. Dejan ended up leaning on the wall from how hard he was laughing.

Livi sighed.

"They won't kill each other," He said, grimacing.

Domo and Dejan laughed even harder.

"The worst thing they could do is make out on one of the beches and break it," Dejan managed to say between fits of laughter.

The players that recently joined the team looked very confused. Livi looked at Bruno who looked half uncomfortable, and half like he wanted to laugh as well.

"Do you think it's too early for me to retire?"

Bruno rolled his eyes at him.

"Surprisingly, yes. If you retire we can also retire."

Livi pouted. Laughter slowly died down, and they were all left there in silence again, unsure if they should go to their rooms or not. This wasn't exactly a...usual situation.

Then Domo stepped forward.

"Well, as vice captain I suggest we all get a drink...and try not to imagine what's happening behind those closed doors."

Most people groaned at his wink, with few scandalized "Domo!" yells as well. In the end they all did go and get a drink.

Some things they were just better off...not knowing.

"So, do you usually watch Supernatural?" Pjaca asked Rog and few meter away, Ante groaned.

A lot of things, as it seemed.

#croatia nt #luka modric #mario mandzukic #marko rog #marko pjaca #ante rebic #fanfic #my writing

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nvd94 · 4 years

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For few years ago I created Markeci ottoman empire AU fiction (in Thai). i didn’t draw anything about my fiction but! I did it shfkhfkhdkfhkdhkh and it’s soooo pretty uwuuu

Marko as young Janissary who is the Sultan’s guard

wittle mawko as dancer in the harem (there’s no historical accurate here lol)

sorry not sorry T/////T

DO NOT REPOST, RE-UPLOAD,OR USE IT AS A FICTION COVER

PLS DON’T

#Croatia National Football Team #croatia nt #my art #my fanfic stuff #marko rog #marko pjaca #markeci

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liviisbaby · 5 years

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I've been shy to participate in croatia nt fandom but I'll bite cause yesterday was just so much and I haven't recovered... for headcanons...how would Ivan feel/comfort Luka after yesterday?

Requested by @incelhugochavez but im a dumbass and lost the ask

Ivan comforting Luka after yesterday:

-Ivan was feeling rage and rage only when he saw Luka injured on the pitch

-He was ready to have a fist fight with both the ref and the Welsh team

-Seeing his Luka in any kind of pain was so heartbreaking for him

-After the match he made sure he was the first one to get to him

-"Babe,are you fine?"

-"Um,do I look like I am?"

-In the dressing room he was sitting next to Luka while he was getting his leg further checked

-Ivan letting Luka hold his hand

-Luka gripping it in a death hold whenever he felt pain shoot through his leg

-Ivan secretly wishing he didn't let Luka hold his hand at certain points

-Ivan cracking jokes to try to cheer Luka up

-"knock knock"

-"please don't"

-Luka laughing at Ivan's lame jokes

-Ivan reassuring Luka he is gonna be okay and telling him he played amazing

-Luka kissing the back of Ivan's hand

-Ivan kissing Luka's forehead

-the rest of the team going "awww" at the scene

-They totally ruined the moment

-Ivan and Luka blushing like school girls

-----

I hope this doesn't suck ass I wrote it in biology class lmaoooo

#rakidric #luka modric #ivan rakitic #croatia nt #rakidric fanfic

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mariomandzos · 5 years

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Falling in Love with Luka as Friends and Being Too Shy to Tell Each other

- you’d been friends since you were 12

- at the time he promised to marry you and tied a make-shift piece multicoloured of string around your finger as a ring

- you had kept the string in the pocket of your jacket

- you met through mutual friends a couple of years ago and became really good friends

- the two of you always met up for dinner at least once a week, and slowly he felt your gaze soften whenever you looked deeply into each other’s eyes

- his hand would be yearning to caress yours when you laid it on the dinner table

- neither of you wanted to make the first move for fear of breaking your friendship

- since then you always attended his matches wearing his jersey

- you came to meet him after a match before he got on the team bus

- you both leaned in for a hug but it was so awkward that you both dissolved into a fit of giggles

- he eventually locked you in a bear hug, you could feel the heat radiating from his cheeks

- luka went back to his hometown and was looking through old photo albums with his mother

- he saw a faded photo of himself, and a girl with a piece of string around her finger, who looked vaguely familiar

- he felt happy tears welling up in his eyes

- one day luka mustered up the courage to confess at dinner

- he bought out the photo of you two and watched your shocked expression, at the fact that you’d known each other all this time

- you embraced in tears of joy

#sorry you had to wait #luka modric #Luka Modrić #Football Fanfiction #football fanfic #football imagine #croatia nt #croatia nt x reader #headcanon #football headcanon #luka modric x reader

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hotspursss · 5 years

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Heyyy, anyone wants to talk or to find a new friend ?

I really want to find some new interesting people and also to improve my English skills (yeah, it’s not my native language)

That’s why i’m looking for people who are interested in football (bc football is my fucking religion)🤷🏻‍♀️ We can talk about different clubs, national teams, players and ships as well 🤤 So, if you’re interested - just write me in Instagram!🥰

I will be happy for all new friends!😊

my inst: @fcknflwlss

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isa-styxr28 · 9 months

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#luka modrić #luka modric #football #real madrid #croatia 10 #croatia nt #croatia #luka modrić fanfic #luka modric edit #lukamodric #modric #modrić

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steadydinosaurcherryblossom · 2 months

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I’m starting to transfer my football tales from ficbook to AO3

#ivan rakitic #luka modric #croatia nt #football fanfic #rakiric #rakidric

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longeyelashedtragedy · 4 months

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griezmann for the ask! griezmann for the ask!

oh shit! thank you for this one!

i'll be honest--i don't think about the Renaisance Twink as often as i once did, but he was like, my first Favorite Footballer once i started watching football (he's one of the reasons i saw the light--but that's a whoooole nother story) and the first footballer i ever wrote fic about! so, i have a lot of fondness for him in my heart.

favorite thing about them: i like his sunshiney puppy-like vibes and everything he'd done with his hair over the years (until he came back from barça...) Good Wag, erika has good vibes. transformative music taste (see below). also, he has some fun goals, as long as he isn't scoring against croatia :/

least favorite thing about them: uhhh, he plays for france nt...HE GOT RID OF HIS LONG BARÇA CURLS. i think of all the Hair Sins footballers have committed, this is the most offensive. that hair was gorgeous it was peak it was everything.

favorite line: uhhh? i can't think of anything quotable--just things from my fanfics (“Well I’m not asking fucking Simeone. He did this to me without asking. That’s probably illegal.” ohhhh the potential of my vampireverse lol) but irl? i'm not sure

brotp: hmmmm...giroud? i liked his interactions with his NT teammates, idk anymore lol

notp: definitely with messi lol

otp: ok i uhhhh....because he was Around during my wild west shipping days...griezmanu endgame also i invented the "ivantoine" ship and then 100% convinced myself that flirty puppy grizi/gay self-discovery angst were a thing!!! i'm fond of those fics and there's one i still kind of want to write, which might be ridiculous. now neither of them is at barça, lol.

also--grizi and Daddy Simeone, obviiiiii.

random headcanon: uhhh...he probably voted in the most recent french presidential election? (this headcanon is largely for FGSB but she's not really active on here) i don't really have headcanons about footballers for the most part, i just pay attention to their lives? hmmmm

unpopular opinion: HIS BARÇA HAIR WAS HIS BEST HAIR AND I DO NOT KNOW WHY PEOPLE HATE!!! my bff Understands

song i associate with them: here we goooooooo! around the time i got into him spotify published a playlist he made, and he was also posting good stuff on his insta stories, and i found SO much good french music from it, and some good spanish music as well (music in spanish i mean--none of it was from spain.) because of him i found nekfeu, whose "les étoiles vagabondes" album is one of my favorites to this day. i honestly listen to a lot of those songs still. i don't think any random person's playlist has ever influenced me as much as that one 😂

favorite picture of them: well. there are so many pictures of him that i like, but i think i have to go with my fav football photo like, ever:

#STILL DOING THESE lol #anonymous #answered #renaissance twink

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mariomandzho · 6 years

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Domestic ! Luka headcannons ( requested by anonymous )

– He has trouble sleeping. As the captain of the team and the ‘dad’ of the friend group, he’s almost always thinking about how he can do more to make his team proud or how he himself can improve. That said, he doesn’t mind crawling into bed when you do, just so he can spoon you until you fall asleep. He loves to have pillow talk, so expect lots of that before bed or after ;).

– He’s the best at making drinks. 10/10 bartender skills. Watch him behind the bar at the pool, wearing a pair of Aviators that cost more than your house, whipping up a martini, cosmopolitan, vodka tonic – whatever. He doesn’t mind drinking ‘girly’ drinks because they taste better (even if Mario calls him a pussy) and you tend to sip out of his glass, too.

– He doesn’t bother saving you a seat when the team is over to watch a game, because he already knows you’re going to sit on his lap and he can play with your hair.

– Yes, Luka is short – but you’re shorter, and you’ve basically conditioned him to lean down whenever you tug on his tie or shirt to give you a kiss. He always, and happily, obliges. In return, he either tugs on your hair or snatches you by your waist when he wants a kiss. You never thought he’d be so playful, but he is!

– He’ll binge watch movies with you and gets super engrossed in television shows. He pretends to hate it when you blare Taylor Swift on the radio, but he knows all her lyrics by heart!

– Luka’s very touchy-feely and loves to have you near, to know you’re safe. When you’re standing at the counter, he’ll come behind you and put his hands on your waist (and occasionally, you’ll grind your backside into him, so that he’ll growl in response.) He’ll hold your hand on the couch, and brush his thumb against your skin (which he loves, because it’s so soft.) He’ll put his chin on your head, and nestle his nose into your lilac-scented shampoo. Nothing warms his heart like when you caress him back. Stroke his cheek, and he’ll cuddle into your hand like a cat; rub his shoulders, they’re tense. Kiss the freckles painted onto his spine – he’ll be yours forever.

– He talks to his sisters on the phone, at length, every week and threatens to beat up their boyfriends at the time if they’re assholes. Smol but can and will fite. He loves it when you spend time with his sisters, because he values having a strong community.

– He tells the best jokes, but not better than you! (Everyone, including Dejan, groans @ you guys for your utter cuteness and the amount of puns you share)

– SATURDAY IS FOR THE BOYS

@moremodric, @la-nica-emilia, @zadarskabagudina, @pachua, @croatianfandom, @tinymodric, @luka-moredick

#luka modric #luka x reader #croatia nt #football imagine #football fanfic #real madrid fanfiction #mf: luka modric

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