All That Matters

No more

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

Trigger warnings: Angst, domestic violence, blood.

Read at your own risk!

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For you,” he had said. You smiled.

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

“Cheers,” he toasted and smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I'm good thank you and god writer block is a bitch 😒

Right?? Tell me about it, feels so frustrating..

Hi when was the day you started to write for Antoine like what did u feel lol sorry for asking I'm just curious child lolol

Well, I had been browsing the imagine section for him and when I finally ran out of stories to read, I decided to give it a try. It was very impulsive, to be honest. I used to write for Harry Styles and other celebs here on Tumblr and Wattpad, but with the school and homework it got overwhelming and so I dropped social media altogether and stopped writing. I believe, writing calms me and finally getting back into it feels really nice. :) Thanks for asking! 

Hi, you are an amazing writer and I believe that you have a bright future and as a personal advice, I believe you have to be comfortable and happy with the things you write because at the end the work you made is for you, so I´ll be more than happy to read all your ideas.

Thank you so much for the kind words. It really means the world to me that people like my writings! I appreciate it :)

She is...

A Harry Styles imagine

Based on this request:

Hey could you plzz do an imagine of you not feeling well throughout the day and Harry comes hone and is kinda pissed at you for some reason and you suddenly faint while you arguing. After in the hospital he feels so bad and is worried and it ends with fluff

Enjoy! Requests are open!

~

Ever since you woke up this morning, you’ve been feeling a bit...off. Not the “I’m getting sick” or “something bad is about to happen” kind of off, but there was something that tied a knot in the pit of stomach that has remained there ever since. When you first woke up, you noticed Harry, your boyfriend of almost one and a half year, being gone, even though he was supposed to have few more days off to spend with you before going to do his shows in Australia. You at first hestitated to text him, but you did anyways, asking him where had he gone, but received no reply. Deciding against doing something more or less productive while waiting for Harry to return, hoping he had only ran out to catch some take out, since you had been craving it during the night, even going as far as waking your him up in hopes that he might go and fetch you some, but without a luck. As you tiptoed down the downstairs, the cold floor hitting your bare feet, a sudden feeling of dizziness took over you, making you grip the shelves on the wall next to the stairway, accidentally knocking over a few of Harry’s old childhood pictures, most of them gifted by Robin on his last birthday. Seeing the pictures lying on the floor with shreds of glass around them made you even more dizzy, as Harry had been having a hard time coping with the sad news ever since he passed away. Once you had gained your ability to walk and see straight, you wasted no time in trying to clean the mess up, hoping to fix the broken frames before Harry notices something being out of place, seeing that these were somehow similar to the frames you had recently bought and still had in spare. But the recent mishaps seemed to be following you around as you went, and, as you were picking up the last small pieces of the remaining shreds, a sudden bolt of the door shutting startled you, making you accidentally cut yourself in the palm of your hand. Harry’s heavy boots echoed though the otherwise empty and quiet house, making you inwardly curse to yourself for being so clumsy, knowing a storm is about to hit you.

“(Y/N)! Where are you? I bought some food I thought you might like, to make up fo- what is this?!” He asked in disbelief, at first not noticing you crouched over the broken frames.

“Harry, I-I can explain, I’m so-“

“Sorry? You are sorry?! You broke them!!! With the pictures Robin himself gave me as a present!! How could you be so heartless?? You know how much they mean to me!!” He raged, kicking the bucket full of scraps, sending them flying across the floor. He bent down, trying to pick up the pictures himself, with you trying to help.

“Leave it, you have done enough already” he spat, gripping your wounded hand in order to stop you from even touching them, making pain shoot right through you.

“Harry, I said I’m sorry, it was an accident...” you breathed out, silent tears sliding down your cheeks.

“No. No, (Y/N). Don’t start this. At first you cancel our last night’s plans, because you “just felt like staying in”, even though we were not the only ones going and I had to find a silly excuse as to why, then you wake me up god knows how early just to tell me that you want food, and now this! What is wrong with you?!?” He fumed, but his rant became more distant with time and once again the feeling of dizziness took over you, this time sending you in the depths of darkness, making the shards of glass pierce your skin as your body hit the floor.

Harry’s POV

I was livid. The last few days have been a mess - so much to do, yet so little time. Not to mention the lack of sleep. The making of new music, arranging the new additional tour dates and interviews, making sure I get everything done before I take off to Australia was taking its toll on me. And her. (Y/N). God forgive me for leaving her like this the whole time. I’ve missed her so much, and the thought of me leaving her has been driving me mad. Especially this time, even though I cannot fully understand why. Every minute spent together with her has been leading me to the edge of breaking, either in tears or rage, and this time rage took over. It’s not like she has done anything wrong, no. It’s just that the more time we spend together alone, the more I don’t want to leave, making me consider postponing the tour, to which my management would never agree to. And the fans...

Last night we were supposed to go out for a nice dinner with my team, making it important to actually show up, since I was the one who initially came up with the idea. Having to lie made me angry, not because I could not understand that (Y/N) was not feeling her best, but the fact that she realised that only an hour before the actual meeting, making me look bad infront of important people. Even though I was more than glad to finally get a good night’s sleep, (Y/N) decided otherwise, which is the reason for my cranky mood today, since I had refused to get up, guilt eating me, as I felt her shuffle further away from me, mumbling a “sorry” as she did so. Waking up this morning, however, was when I decided I cannot keep up my behaviour and took a drive to the nearest take out place, knowing very well she would forgive me for being a massive dick. I don’t even want to talk about what happened when I arrived home. Something inside of me just snapped...

Seeing her fall, however, was the worst feeling I’ve felt in a long time. Watching the love of my life fall on top of a layer of scraps that I had initially scattered there in the fit of rage I was having, made me sick in my stomach, and seeing her unconscious and bleeding just about broke my heart. I rushed towards her and craddled her in my arms, shaking her for the dear life, hoping to see her beautiful eyes look up to me, telling me that this was all just a bad dream, and that everything is alright...

Once I took her to the hospital for the doctors to take care of her and find out what caused the fainting, praying to myself that I was not the reason behind it, I couldn’t help but to fear the worst. I kept repeating everything I said to her in my mind, wincing at how rude and unnecessary that was. I couldn’t help but to sob next to her bed, praying for her to wake up and forgive me, to hold me the way I’m holding her now and to tell me that everything is okay. That it will be okay... It will, right?

When the doctor came in, I couldn’t help but to jump up from my chair, asking him to give me the answers I oh so desperately wanted to know.

“Mr.Styles, you have got to calm down. The stitching was done professionally, so the scaring will be little to none with the right precautions taken. The fainting, however, is something I am more concerned about..” the doctor trailed off, making my heart sink.

“Wh-what is it?” I sniffled, not caring about anyone noticing my current state.

“Well, she has been lacking on the intake of vitamins, which, in her case, has lead this far, thus harming her immune system, not to mention the stress, but with the right diet and excercise, they should be fine.”

“I-I’m sorry, did I hear correct? They?”

“Oh, yes, they. She is pregnant!”

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

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

A quick update!

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

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

Do you write only for Antoine? Xx

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

Requests are open!

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

I need you

An Antoine Griezmann imagine

Based on this request:

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

Part two will be up shortly! Enjoy!

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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