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boobo13cambridge · 11 months

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I’ll Take Care of You | Kylian Mbappé

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x f.Reader

Warnings: none just angsty and some passionate kissing

Summary: Kylian is feeling stressed as the news that he will not be extending with PSG comes out. He seeks comfort in you.

A/N: Hello, everyone! When I got this request I absolutely adored the idea and wanted to get right to it. As always, please leave me feedback and don’t forget to reblog. I would greatly appreciate it. Enjoy, lovelies ❣️

The sun had long set over the city of Paris, casting an ethereal glow upon the Eiffel Tower as its lights illuminated the darkened sky. In the midst of the bustling city, a heavy atmosphere hung over Kylian Mbappé's lavish apartment. The young football prodigy, renowned for his incredible talent on the field, now found himself at a crossroads that weighed heavily on his heart.

Kylian had spent years with Paris Saint-Germain, captivating fans and leaving a lasting mark on the club. Since his arrival in 2017, he had steered his team to five Ligue 1 titles, secured three French Cup titles, and clinched the coveted Player of the Season award on four occasions. Yet, beneath the surface of success, a storm of discontent brewed within him. He felt betrayed by the club. He wasn't happy with the Mercato, he wasn't happy with the coach, and he was even less happy about practically being threatened by the president of the club that he would never be able to leave. The project that they tried to sell him was all a lie, leaving him consumed by frustration.

Paris was his home, his people, and his beloved city, and he never desired to depart its embrace. But his relentless ambition gnawed at his conscience, whispering that remaining stagnant would be a betrayal to the dreams of the little boy from Bondy who yearned to conquer all. The time had come to draw a line in the sand; he had reached his breaking point. Enough was enough.

As he lay sprawled on the couch, his gaze fixed upon the sprawling Paris skyline, an overwhelming headache descended upon him. It felt as though the weight of the entire world rested squarely upon his shoulders. The relentless media scrutiny only exacerbated his turmoil, incessantly hurling names at him and peddling baseless stories about his character (as if they even knew him), and practically harassing him on social media.

He was just so tired.

The young French captain longed for your presence by his side, but fate had conspired against him as you were working until 6 pm that day. Gazing at his iPhone, he saw that it was merely 5:30 pm, and a sense of dejection washed over him. With a heavy heart, he decided to text you, hoping that he could somehow persuade you to leave early.

Kylian: bébé can u leave early?

Kylian: tu me manques 🙁 (I miss you)

You: aww mon bébé 🙁 (aww my baby)

You: ouvre la porte je suis là 😘 (open the door, I'm here)

Surprised and filled with a glimmer of hope, he swiftly rose from the couch, his anticipation mirrored by the chime of the doorbell. A small smile spread on his fatigued face, as he felt a fraction of the weight burdening his shoulders dissipate.

Opening the door, he felt a sense of relief surge through his body as he saw your smiling face.

"Surprise, Kyky," you said, winking at him. Kylian didn't know what had come over him, but he felt his eyes welling up with tears as he pulled you inside, enveloping himself around you as he kicked the door closed. His heart weighed heavy, and he struggled to control his sobs, burying his face in your hair.

Surprised, you wrapped your arms around him, gently stroking the back of his head. "Mon bébé, what happened? Are you okay? Talk to me, mon cœur."

Hearing your voice only intensified his tears. He yearned to share his innermost thoughts, to unburden his soul, but he found himself unable to articulate the complexities of his emotions. The past few days had been gruelling for him. People knew him as a confident, self-assured individual, seemingly impervious to the world's judgments. He felt they took advantage of that side of him and perhaps his confidence enraged them. He felt that it was unfair that they used that to vilify him at every given opportunity. This time the footballer just couldn’t take it anymore, he had reached his breaking point.

You were filled with worry. Never before had you witnessed Kylian break down in such a way. Even after the heart-wrenching moments of missing a penalty at the Euro or losing the World Cup in Qatar, his composure had remained intact. However, the recent news of his decision not to renew with PSG had evidently struck a nerve far deeper than anticipated. You knew people wouldn’t take it kindly but you didn’t think it was going to be this bad.

"Shh, allez mon amour. Ça va bien aller. I'm here for you," you attempted to console him. Gently pulling back, you held his face between your hands.

The sight that greeted you shattered your heart into a million pieces. Kylian's face was flushed, his cheeks stained with tears. Seeing him in such anguish brought tears to your own eyes. "Ky...," you started, softly wiping away his tears with your thumbs. Shaking his head, Kylian pressed his forehead against yours.

"I can't do this anymore, bébé. Je suis tanné, putain," he cried, gripping your hips tightly, seeking solace and grounding himself in your presence.

"Je sais, mon cœur, je sais," you consoled him, gently guiding him to the couch as he lay down, his head buried in your lap. You caressed his head, your other hand soothingly rubbing his back, placing tender kisses upon his head as you whispered words of comfort.

Gradually, Kylian's sobs subsided, and he lifted his head from your stomach, wiping away his tears as you used a tissue to dab at his runny nose. "Let me get you some water, Ky," you attempted to rise, but Kylian shook his head. "Non, stay please... I just want you to hold me."

"Okay, bébé. Anything you want," you said, placing a gentle kiss upon his forehead. "But please, talk to me, Ky."

Kylian was lost in a whirlwind of thoughts, uncertain of where to begin. His emotions and feelings tangled within him, threatening to overwhelm him. It took him a few moments to gather his thoughts.

"I don't know what to do anymore," he whispered, his voice laced with vulnerability. "It feels like the weight of the world is on my shoulders. Everyone has a fuckin’ opinion about everything I do. If I stay at PSG, I'm a fuckin’ loser who's ruining his career by staying in a farmer's league. If I leave, I'm a traitor who doesn't care about the club, only about money. I can't catch a break, bébé. No matter what I do, I'm always the bad guy, always painted as the fuckin’ villain in whatever fairytale they cook up every week. I feel suffocated, and on top of it all, I feel like a complete piece of shit for dumping all my feelings on you. I've been a shitty fiancé."

“Mon amour, don't say that. You are not a shitty fiancée and I want you to know that I love you so much. Secondly, I want you to talk about your feelings with me because that's what I'm here for. We're in this together bébé. We're a team, and I’ll always be here for you whenever you need me. As for the media, those assholes are just jealous because you’re this confident young man who’s so incredibly talented. They could never hold a candle to you, mon amour. Besides, most of them are just a bunch of racist fucks.”

“I feel like no matter what I chose, people will still make me out to be a bad guy.”

"Bébé, you can't control that. At the end of the day, you have to make the best decision for yourself, and I'll be right by your side through it all."

You gently caressed his cheek, trying to smooth the lines of worry etched upon his forehead.

"Are you sure, bébé? I just..."

"Kylian, mon amour, mon cœur, ma vie. You mean the world to me. Your dreams are my dreams, and your happiness is my happiness. Wherever you decide to go, I'll be right there beside you, every step of the way."

Gazing into your eyes, Kylian's heart swelled with an overwhelming sense of gratitude. These past few years, sharing his life with someone as extraordinary as you had transformed him into the luckiest man to walk the earth. With every beat of his heart, he recognized that you were not just a partner, but the missing piece that completed his very being—the woman he had always yearned for in his wildest dreams.

In an instant, he surrendered to the intensity of his emotions, his hand instinctively finding the curve of your neck. With a gentle yet possessive grip, he drew you closer, erasing the space between your bodies. Their warmth melded, and the world around them faded into insignificance as their lips collided in a moment of fiery passion.

Time seemed to stand still as their mouths moved in a fervent dance, their souls entwining amidst the raw fervor of their connection. It was a kiss that transcended words, conveying depths of love that mere language could never capture. In that single act, Kylian poured his heart and soul into the embrace, a testament to the profound love and desire he held for you.

The taste of his lips, the electric touch of his hands, and the fusion of their breaths ignited a blazing fire within both of them. Each kiss carried an unspoken promise—a vow of unwavering devotion, a pledge to traverse any obstacle that lay in their path. In that fleeting moment, the world existed solely for the two of them, bound by an unbreakable bond that defied all logic and reason.

As you broke apart, your noses nuzzled together. "But, you know, now that you've decided to leave once your contract ends, maybe choose a city with better weather, oui? I absolutely refuse to have our future babies be born in a cold, rainy place."

A soft chuckle escaped Kylian's lips, blending relief with joy. "I was only joking, bébé. I'm not actually going to Manchester United or Liverpool. Don't worry your pretty little head, princesse."

"You better have been joking because there's no way you're dragging me to a whole new country and knocking me up in the frigid cold.”

“Oh, please. You love it when I do you raw, princesse.”

“ Oh yeah? I'll fly right back and give birth to your child in Marseille,” you retorted, cheeks turning red.

"Take that back, bébé. You're not allowed to say that. No child of mine is going to be a Marseillais."

Laughter filled the air, a melody of hope and love. In that moment, you both knew that no matter the challenges ahead, your bond with Kylian was unbreakable. Together, you would face the uncertainties of life, drawing strength from the unwavering support and affection you shared.

As the night progressed, you held each other close, finding solace in the arms of the one who mattered most. And in that embrace, you both understood that regardless of where fate led the brilliant Kylian Mbappé, love would be your guiding light through the storm, ensuring that the journey ahead brimmed with hope, adventure, and an unyielding bond that would endure forever.

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mbebe-fc · 2 months

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baby captain & vice captain

#little baby #kinda missing international break #kylian mbappe #antoine griezmann #french nt #edf #football #kylian mbappé #mbappé

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cialovesklopp · 2 months

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MON AMOUR JE T'AIME

*•..° ❝𝐊𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐊𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀❞ summary: when amara imani’s life is crashing down, star football player kylian mbappe is ready to pull her out of her slump

in which kylian mbappe meets amara imani and inspires her to make an unforgettable comeback

author's note - WELCOME TO MY FIRST SERIES: MON AMOUR, JE T’AIME. very excited to start this project and i really hope to keep this enthusiasm during the progress of publishing the chapters. I instantly fell in love with her and only hope i can manage to transport that love through the screens. big thank you also to @lorarri and @aechii who helped me throughout the process. i love you guys. this is as much my heritage as its yours.

CHAPTERS ⤷ the story of how amara imani dropped a badass comeback

[ article one - quelle honte]

i. prologue

ii. chapter one ➺ dress

[ article two - cupid's perfect match]

iii. chapter two ➺ one kind of a man

[ article three - the queen of pop flops at relationships]

iv. chapter three ➺ this love

[ article four - where has she gone]

v. chapter four ➺ pov

[ article five - she is back]

vi. chapter five ➺ revenge

[ article six - amara's renaissance]

vii. chapter six ➺ king of my heart

[ article seven - mon amour; who is she dating]

viii. chapter seven ➺ lover

[ article eight - amara imani vs evan henderson is on ]

ix. chapter eight ➺ va dire à ton ex

[ article nine - amara imani and kylian mbappe?]

x. chapter nine ➺ wild side

xi. chapter ten ➺ while we're young

[ article ten - the queen found her king]

BONUS CHAPTERS ⤷ a few insights to the couple life of kylian & amara

bonus one - daylight

bonus - joyeux anniversaire

bonus two - une journée à trois

articles ⤷ scandalous; all the latest celebrity news

one — QUELLE HONTE

two — CUPID’S PERFECT MATCH

three — THE QUEEN OF POP FLOPS AT RELATIONSHIPS

four — WHERE HAS SHE GONE

five — SHE IS BACK

six — AMARA’S RENAISSANCE

seven — MON AMOUR; WHO IS SHE DATING?

eight — IMANI VS HENDERSON IS ON

nine — AMARA IMANI AND KYLIAN MBAPPE?

ten — THE QUEEN FOUND HER KING

characters:

( amara imani )

( grace woods )

( liyah clark )

#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian mbappe fluff #mon amour #amara imani #kylian mbappe fanfiction #kylian mbappe x black!reader #kylian mbappe x oc #kylian mbappe x black! oc #kylian mbappe x black oc #kylian #kylian mbappé #kylian mbappé fanfic #kylian mbappé x black! oc #kylian mbappé x black! reader #football x oc #football fanfics #french nt

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sorceresski · 6 months

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He was feeling very baby girl that day😂💕❤️

(Kylian scores a volley in training and runs off cackling to the dressing room)

#kylian mbappe #psg #french nt

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letmeapologise · 7 months

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❝ 𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ❞

.ೃ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ! 𝐬𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐬' 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐟𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐲. 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐧 𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟕 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐬𝐠 ? ✰ ´ˎ˗

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 ⌇ 𝟐𝟑 𝐒𝐄𝐏 '𝟐𝟑 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 ⌇ 𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠

⋆ ｡ ˚ ⋆ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⌇ 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫. 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐲 𝐰 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐜 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞-𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞 𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐭𝐨. 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐬𝐦. 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲. 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 ੈ✩‧₊˚

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⌇ 𝐤𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐛𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚

ೄྀ࿐ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⌇ 𝐧/𝐚 !

↳ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ೃ⁀➷ 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 @𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢 𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐛𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐢 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐬' 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞 (𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐦𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄). 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐬 !

⋆ ｡ ˚ ⋆ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 ੈ✩‧₊˚

𝐨𝐨𝐩𝐬 ! 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐭 !

.ೃ 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐲 ✰ ´ˎ˗

𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡. 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐞. 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞. 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬

ೀ.ᐟ⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐/ 𝟐𝟑 𝐬𝐳𝐧 *ೃ༄

𝟎𝟔 𝐚𝐮𝐠 '𝟐𝟐 ⌇ 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭 @ 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝟏𝟑 𝐚𝐮𝐠 '𝟐𝟐 ⌇ 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐩𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐫 @ 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝟐𝟏 𝐚𝐮𝐠 '𝟐𝟐 ⌇ 𝐥𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞 @ 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝟐𝟖 𝐚𝐮𝐠 '𝟐𝟐 ⌇ 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐜𝐨 @ 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝟑𝟏 𝐚𝐮𝐠 '𝟐𝟐 ⌇ 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 @ 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝟎𝟑 𝐬𝐞𝐩 '𝟐𝟐 ⌇ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐬 @ 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝟏𝟎 𝐬𝐞𝐩 '𝟐𝟐 ⌇ 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 @ 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝟏𝟖 𝐬𝐞𝐩 '𝟐𝟐 ⌇ 𝐥𝐲𝐨𝐧 @ 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝟎𝟏 𝐨𝐜𝐭 '𝟐𝟐 ⌇ 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞 @ 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝟎𝟖 𝐨𝐜𝐭 '𝟐𝟐 ⌇ 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐦𝐬 @ 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝟏𝟔 𝐨𝐜𝐭 '𝟐𝟐 ⌇ 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞 @ 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝟐𝟏 𝐨𝐜𝐭 '𝟐𝟐 ⌇ 𝐚𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐨 @ 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝟐𝟗 𝐨𝐜𝐭 '𝟐𝟐 ⌇ 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐬 @ 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝟎𝟔 𝐧𝐨𝐯 '𝟐𝟐 ⌇ 𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭 @ 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝟏𝟑 𝐧𝐨𝐯 '𝟐𝟐 ⌇ 𝐚𝐮𝐱𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐞 @ 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝟐𝟖 𝐝𝐞𝐜 '𝟐𝟐 ⌇ 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐠 @ 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝟎𝟏 𝐣𝐚𝐧 '𝟐𝟑 ⌇ 𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐬 @ 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝟏𝟏 𝐣𝐚𝐧 '𝟐𝟑 ⌇ 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 @ 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝟏𝟓 𝐣𝐚𝐧 '𝟐𝟑 ⌇ 𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐬 @ 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝟐𝟗 𝐣𝐚𝐧 '𝟐𝟑 ⌇ 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐦𝐬 @ 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝟎𝟏 𝐟𝐞𝐛 '𝟐𝟑 ⌇ 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐩𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐫 @ 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝟎𝟒 𝐟𝐞𝐛 '𝟐𝟑 ⌇ 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 @ 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝟏𝟏 𝐟𝐞𝐛 '𝟐𝟑 ⌇ 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐜𝐨 @ 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝟏𝟗 𝐟𝐞𝐛 '𝟐𝟑 ⌇ 𝐥𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞 @ 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝟐𝟔 𝐟𝐞𝐛 '𝟐𝟑 ⌇ 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞 @ 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝟎𝟒 𝐦𝐚𝐫 '𝟐𝟑 ⌇ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐬 @ 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝟏𝟏 𝐦𝐚𝐫 '𝟐𝟑 ⌇ 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 @ 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝟏𝟗 𝐦𝐚𝐫 '𝟐𝟑 ⌇ 𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐬 @ 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝟎𝟐 𝐚𝐩𝐫 '𝟐𝟑 ⌇ 𝐥𝐲𝐨𝐧 @ 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝟎𝟖 𝐚𝐩𝐫 '𝟐𝟑 ⌇ 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞 @ 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝟏𝟓 𝐚𝐩𝐫 '𝟐𝟑 ⌇ 𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐬 @ 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝟐𝟏 𝐚𝐩𝐫 '𝟐𝟑 ⌇ 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 @ 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝟑𝟎 𝐚𝐩𝐫 '𝟐𝟑 ⌇ 𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭 @ 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝟎𝟕 𝐦𝐚𝐲 '𝟐𝟑 ⌇ 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐬 @ 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝟏𝟑 𝐦𝐚𝐲 '𝟐𝟑 ⌇ 𝐚𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐨 @ 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝟐𝟏 𝐦𝐚𝐲 '𝟐𝟑 ⌇ 𝐚𝐮𝐱𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐞 @ 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝟐𝟕 𝐦𝐚𝐲 '𝟐𝟑 ⌇ 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐠 @ 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝟎𝟑 𝐣𝐮𝐧 '𝟐𝟑 ⌇ 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭 @ 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚 *ೃ༄

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐲 𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫

౨ৎ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐬' 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞 ⑅·˚

୨୧ @𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐬𝐞. 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 ୨୧

#✰ letmeapologise ´ˎ˗#✰ letmeapologise masterlist ´ˎ˗#writing #imagines #f/o imagines #football #football imagine #kylian mbappe #mbappe x reader #mbappe psg #mbappe imagine #french nt #france nt #thierry henry #thierry henry fic #psg feminines #psg #paris saint germain #marie katoto

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griezmannfr · 1 year

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#olivier giroud #giroud #kylian mbappe #mbappe #france nt #french nt #wc 2022 #wc 22 #world cup #world cup 2022 #world cup qatar #qatar 2022

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lenaswritingandstuff · 1 year

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Requested: Yes ("Hello again! Thank you so much for your kindness! Could I please request a gif imagine with Grizi where you tell him that you're pregnant with your first child (you're recently married)? Like his cute little happy smile? I hope that's okay. Please take care ❤️")

Imagine telling your husband Antoine you're pregnant with your first child

Word Count: 499

A/N: I'm so happy to write for my little Prince! Thank you so much for your request! Take care, hun, and feel free to message me anytime! English is not my first language!

Warnings: mention of miscarriage, period, difficulty to have a child, fluff

GIF IS NOT MINE

You sighed, lost in your thoughts. You had a great life: you loved your job, you had nice house, a family who loved you, and above all a loving husband. Antoine was your whole world, and you two were the happiest when you were together. Yet, something was missing. Something you both wanted with all your heart, something that would complete the wonderful life you had, but didn’t seem to come. A baby. You and Antoine tried even before you got married a few weeks ago, in vain. While Antoine remained his positive, hopeful safe and kept telling you that you guys would have a child soon, you were worried. You even went to see a doctor, who told you there wasn’t any problem with your body and that you just had to keep trying. What was wrong then? You were getting desperate until one day you checked your calendar and realized your period should arrive anytime soon. Yet, days passed and still nothing. You started to get tired, some smells felt horrible, and after some time you woke up with nausea. Antoine, himself a bit tired because of all the matches, was supporting and comforting as always and you saw in his beautiful eyes what he was thinking – hoping but you refused to have hope. However, when the nausea continued and your period never came, you had no choice but to have the same idea as your husband.

One morning when he was in training you went to buy a pregnancy test, half-hopeful, half-scared. You weren’t scared of being pregnant, no, you were scared of being disappointed. You’ve never had any miscarriage before, which according to the doctor was a good thing, but the idea still terrified you. You went back home, went to the bathroom, and used the test. Walking back to the living room, you sat on the couch and waited for a few minutes. The test should show the results at any seconds now, and all of a sudden when you heard the door opened.

“Love, I’m home”

Shit. Antoine was back from training sooner than usual and you heard him taking his shoes off. The test was still in your hand when he entered the living room, a smile on his face.

“Hey, babe, how are-“

He stopped this sentence as the same time he started walking.

“Is that-“

You nodded, and Antoine walked a bit closer to the couch.

“What-What does it say?”

You lowered your head, looked at the test, and tears filled your eyes.

“It’s positive.”

“Babe!”

You rose up and jumped in his arms. He spined you around and you both couldn’t stop smiling. He finally put you back on the ground without letting go and kissed you.

“We’re gonna have a baby.”

You both had a nervous but happy laugh and Antoine put his hand on you cheek.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, babe.”

Finally, your life was going to be complete.

Masterlist

Want to be tagged? Just use my In-Box!

#antoine griezmann x reader #antoine griezmann #griezmann #grizi #grizou #grizoo #gif imagine #soccer #football #french NT #reader insert #request

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swaggypsyduck · 1 year

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id like to inform everyone that this picture exists. thank u for ur attention.

#zizou is so done w them💀#sergio ramos #zinedine zidane #thierry henry #spanish nt #french nt #la roja #les bleues

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7kylian · 1 month

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-I missed you!

-Where’s my kit??

-You didn’t ask me for one??!! since when did you grow so tall??

#LOOK AT MY BABIESSSSSDDD #ibrahima konate #eduardo camavinga #french nt

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formulalfc · 3 months

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Kylian when his baby is born I feel like he might be the type to cry

it had been hours of rough labour for you and you were exhausted but your husband had stayed by your side the whole day, wiping a cold cloth on your forehead and whispering sweet nothings in your ears about how proud he was of you and how much he loves you. when your baby finally came into the world you both breathed a sigh of relief as you heard their cries. the nurses clean your baby before bringing them over to you and placing them in your arms, a smile so big lighting up your face. you coo down at your baby, rocking them gently in your arms before you look at kylian. your lips pouted as you see the tears streaming down his face, his eyes locked on your baby in awe. you wipe his eyes and ask him if he's ready to hold his baby, he can't even speak just nods enthusiastically at you and opens his arms for your baby. you pass the baby to your husband who's looking between you and your baby like his life will never get any better than this.

inbox is open send me some ramble requests <3

#blurbs with shan ;)#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe imagines #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian mbappe smut #kylian mbappe fluff #psg #french nt #mbappe

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defensivewall · 1 month

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OLIVIER GIROUD - French Men’s National Team Training Session - March 18, 2024

Photo by Daniel Derajinski

#olivier giroud #french nt #g posts #q things

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mbebe-fc · 3 months

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angel baby 👼🏽

#pretty eyes #pretty smile #pretty boy #kylian mbappe #mbappé #psg #french nt #edf #football

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sports-on-sundays · 21 days

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football in the rain / Antoine Griezmann

Summary: Antoine x female!Spanish!reader - You met a celebrity before he became a celebrity.

Warnings: running away from home, angst I suppose, missing home, sad ending, melancholy vibes, bit of Spanish (sorry if it's not correct), slight parasocial relationship?

Author's Note: I'M BEGGING YOU. PLEASE READ THIS! I wrote this because I'm a huge fan of his, okay, but listen, I know a lot of you couldn't care less about this but it was an idea I had that I needed to write down. It's not even romantic at all, so you don't have to worry about that! I'm just super proud of this and it would make me so happy to know someone read and enjoyed it. Please, if you don't enjoy it as a fic, then enjoy it simply as a story! Anyway of course I know after this mega long author's note I'm going to get 0 notes anyway.

Requested: Be real.

The year was 2006. The rain beat on your head, soaking through your clothes, as you walked, carrying nothing but a backpack on your back, in the middle of the night.

You stared down at your shoes as you walked, watching as water squished out of them with every step. You let out a deep sigh.

But suddenly, a football gently ran into your foot.

You looked up just in time to see a soaking wet teenage boy, running towards you, saying quickly, "¡Lo siento!"

His wet hair was plastered to his forehead, and his clothes were also soaking, hanging from his body. He had no shoes on, which you found strange.

You picked up his ball and held it, saying, "Who are you?" A part of you assumed he was just some homeless guy who had come across a ball and decided to start playing with himself.

"Mi nombre es Antoine," he said, and it became clear Spanish wasn't his first language. He eyed the ball, waiting for you to hand it back to him.

"Are you French?" you asked.

He nodded, looking at you with his big eyes. "Can I have my ball back?"

You frowned, and, being merely a teenager, asked bluntly, "Are you homeless or something?"

The boy blinked in surprise. "No! I play for Real Sociedad." He gestured, and you were surprised to see you were right by the academy, and you hadn't even noticed.

"Really?" you had asked, sweeping a wet strand of hair out of your face.

He nodded.

"How come you're out practicing in the middle of a rainy night, then?"

You watched as his jaw tightened a bit, but he responded back simply, "I want to improve. I practice whenever I can."

You laughed a bit at that as you asked incredulously, "Don't you get any sleep?"

He shrugged. "Of course I do."

You nodded, and stood there. You glanced at his ball, before rolling it back to him. He stopped it with his foot, which compelled you to ask, "Why aren't you wearing any shoes?"

He shrugged. "They got too wet on the grass. It's easier without."

"Won't you slip?"

He shrugged for about the one hundredth time.

"Well, it makes you look homeless."

"I don't care."

You nodded, shifting your backpack strap on your shoulder, as he said, "But what are you doing, walking in the middle of the night, like you are?"

You shrugged. "I'm running away from home."

The boy blinked in shock as he began kicking the ball back near the field. You followed, somewhat intrigued by this guy, Antoine, with his bright eyes, as he asked, "Why would you do that?"

"I don't know. I'm sick of my home," you said, shrugging off your backpack.

"Want to play?" Antoine offered.

You nodded, slipping off your coat, too. You started playing, just going easy on each other, before Antoine said, eyeing the jersey you were wearing, "Atlético? Are you from Madrid?"

You stood a little straighter, proud of your club. "No, but my uncle is. He's who I'm running away to. I'm sick of my parents."

"You said that," Antoine said as he intercepted your dribble.

"You're really good," you complimented.

"I'm going to go professional, soon enough," the boy smiled proudly.

You nodded. The two of you kept playing, until the score was 3-2, Antoine winning, and you flopped down on the grass next to your backpack, both covered in not only water, now, but also sweat.

"Fernando Torres?" Antoine asked, glancing at the back of your jersey. "Is he your favorite player?"

You grinned, nodding. "He's the best."

He nodded back, and you sat silently in the grey night together for some minutes, before Antoine asked softer, "Why do you want to run away from home?"

You frowned. "I don't know. I want something new. My parents expect me to do so much, and then they never even care about me. They're so controlling. I mean, I'm fifteen! They treat me like a little kid."

"Oh..." Antoine nodded again, trailing off. "Do you think they love you?"

You blinked in surprise at that question. "Of course they do!"

He nodded, and said simply, kind of suddenly, "I'm from France."

"You said."

"My parents are still back there, and my siblings. In France. I hardly ever have gotten to see them... Since... I moved here, for football."

"Well, why didn't you join a club closer to your home, then?" you asked. It seemed fairly obvious to you.

"No clubs would take me."

"What? Why?! You're good!"

But Antoine shrugged, a sad tinge to his voice, so much so, that for just a moment, you thought he might cry. "Apparently, not good enough... What's your name, anyway?"

You told him your name, and he nodded. "Mucho gusto."

You sat there for a while, together, silently. The rain subsided a bit, and finally, you stood up, grabbing your backpack. Antoine stood up with you as you said, "Well, I better get going."

Antoine nodded and said, "Bye. It was really nice, to..." he trailed off, because neither of you really knew what had just happened.

"Yeah," you smiled, understanding. "You too. Antoine."

He grinned back a bit as you turned on your heel to get walking.

But suddenly, he grabbed your wrist. You turned to face him again, your eyebrows scrunching together. "Wait," he said.

You stared.

He let out a shaky breath, before saying, "If your parents love you... I don't think you should run away... I know it's hard, but I don't think you'll regret it in the end."

You saw the glimpse of all the sadness in his eyes. The loneliness.

He knew how it would feel.

His heart was aching for his family.

You assumed it was just a stray raindrop that slowly rolled down his cheek.

You swallowed, and slipped your hand down to squeeze his. "Thanks, Antoine. I'll think about it."

"I don't think I'll ever forget you," he said suddenly, softer.

You blinked in surprise. "W- Why?"

He grinned suddenly. Those sparkling sad blue eyes shining. "I've had a nice time with you, practicing."

You nodded, smiling a little back. "Yeah I had fun, too. Well... bye, Antoine."

He let your hand slip out of his as he called, "Thank you!"

At that time, you didn't have any idea what he was thanking you for as you walked away.

Sometimes, today, you think about it. Now you figure he was just lonely. A boy in the world striving for success, but couldn't see the bright path ahead of him, at the time. Someone who kept going simply because he was a dreamer. He never let go of hope.

That night, you didn't walk to the station and get on a train to Madrid. You went home, took a warm shower, and went to bed.

And after that, things got better for you, slowly but surely.

And you thanked Antoine for that, partially.

And you hoped things would get better for him, too.

Well, you saw that with your own eyes. You saw him get older, and get a place on the first team.

And though perhaps you didn't realize it at the time like Antoine did, the same went for you.

That night, a strange connection you would never forget was formed.

There was no way you could ever forget that lonely night with Antoine, playing football in the rain.

You stand in line, holding two jerseys in your hand. All around you, you, people gushed and huffed and jabbered and pushed in mostly excitement.

Ahead of all the people, somewhere, was Antoine Griezmann, sitting at a table, signing fans' items.

Antoine, who years ago, you played football with in the rain.

You're sure the fame, the money- it changed him. You assume that's something that happens with everyone. But there were so many moments when your heart pounded, and all you could think was, Once upon a time, I stood in the rain and talked to that boy. In that moment, on that one night, we were connected.

Now, eighteen years later, you're determined to let your paths cross again.

He's a famous footballer, with everything anyone could ever ask for. Practically all the money in the world, and a beautiful wife and children.

You're just you, a woman in her thirties who has had a generally alright life, but remain middle class and alone in the world.

But there's a connection you don't want to let go of.

There were moments.

When your uncle phoned you to tell of the news of the young Real Sociedad hotshot who was signing for Atlético Madrid.

When you watched him walk off the pitch crying, after a loss to Germany in the 2014 World Cup.

When you stood up from your sofa and screamed for joy when he scored his first goal for your club, Atlético de Madrid.

When he won the World Cup for France in 2018, and you watched him smiling in the rain with the glimmering golden trophy in his hand.

When you watched him go off to Barcelona, and still stayed his supporter through that mess.

And then you saw him come back to his club. Your club.

And become it's top goalscorer.

And now you're determined to see him face-to-face again.

It seems to happen so slow, and so quick, and the same time. You're not sure if it's tedious or sudden, but either way, at some point, you step up to the table with a lump in your throat.

He looks up and meet your eyes.

He won't recognize me, will he?

"Could you sign two things for me? Antoine?"

He nods, "Of course," and you lay down your jersey of his, with the number seven on the back of it. His Spanish is a lot better now, but you know that. You watch as he scribbles his signature on the shirt and hands it back to you with a smile.

You swallow down the lump in your throat as you lay down the second jersey.

"Fernando Tor-" his voice falters, "Torres," he finishes.

He glances back up at you.

A hint of uncertainty.

Does he really recognize this old jersey?

Is it really ringing a bell, or am I just imagining things?

You breathe deeply.

Come on, Y/n. Say something. This is your chance. This is your one moment, your mind screams as he signs the second, ragged, quite older jersey.

He hands it back to you, but his eyes linger on you longer.

You blurt, "Mi nombre es Y/n."

His bright blue eyes become slightly wider as he opens his mouth to speak.

But suddenly a fan pushes your back in annoyance, and a security guard says, "Miss, we've got a lot of people to get through, and Griezmann doesn't have a lot of time."

And just like that, you're swept away by the crowd. The moment is lost, and you stare at your shoes, clutching your jerseys. You stare at all the other shoes around you, your brain drowning out all the noise.

Your heart pounds.

He remembered me. He did.

Your head aches. All you needed was another moment. All you needed was-

What did you need? Did you really expect anything? Could you even have expected anything?

You feel dizzy, as your stomach drops, and the whole world seems to spin.

You should just be happy you got your jerseys signed, by a star like him.

But to you, he feels like more than just a distant star.

You walk out, swallowing the newest lump forming in your throat, not even taking a moment to look back and see the blue eyes still glancing up and burning into your back.

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