Neymar Jr Angst - Tumblr Posts

Hi can I request a Neymar jr x male reader. But the reader is very hyper thank you!!!

!!IMPORTANT!!

Sorry but y/n isn’t really hyper but idk how to write an hyper reader :(

(Not my gif)

Neymar: *in a restaurant* “so how was your day?”

Y/n: *very happy he can tell someone about his day* “-and then i was like…” *noticing Neymar dozing off* “oh my- I’m so so so so sorry that I bored you.”

Neymar: *giggles*” It’s okay amor, continue.” [love]

Y/n: “Are you sure?” *very hyper for no reason*

Neymar: “Yes, i just dozed off because I’m so in love with you.”

Y/n: “-and that was my day. Do you want to do anything when we get home?”

Neymar: “Yes i want to paint, with white.”

Y/n: “why with white?”

Neymar: …

Y/n: …

Neymar: ….

Y/n: “I do- OH MY.”

Tissues - Neymar Jr x reader

Neymar Jr x female!reader 

Requested? Yes/No: Heyyyy ❤️ can I request if u have time of course an imagine with neymar where the reader is sick and neymar wants to take care of her but she doesn't because she afraid she gonna get him sick . However neymar takes care of her but gets sick too so they're both sick sitting all day at home watching movies cuddling etc.💕💕

Warnings: Fluff, swearing

Word Count: 1.8K

—

Arguably one of the worst things anyone could wake up to was a sore throat and a pounding headache. You noticed everyone around you was slowly starting to fall ill, especially with the weather turning as cold as it was in Paris but you’d hoped you’d been lucky enough to avoid the sickness, clearly you were wrong. You woke up without Neymar by your side, he normally woke up earlier and had a quick session at the gym before you woke up, that way he got to spend more of the day with you rather than running off to work out when the pair of you were midway through something. 

Groaning you reached over to pick up your glass of water which was currently sitting on your bedside table. A shiver shot down your spine as the liquid stabbed your throat. Setting it aside you threw yourself down onto the covers, your hands covering your face as the morning sun hurt your eyes. Everything was silent until the front door clicked open. 

“y/n?” Neymar called your name. “Are you up yet?” He asked as he pushed the door to your shared bedroom open, his hopeful expression dying when he saw the look on your face. “What’s wrong?” He hurried over to you but you ushered him away. 

“I’m ill so don’t get too close, otherwise you’ll end up with it and Kylian will kill me.” 

“You think I care for what he has to say?” The Brazilian gave you a look as he moved to the window, opening it ever so slightly enough to give the room some airflow but not enough to make you worse than you already were. He placed his hand on your forehead, a sympathetic look on his face when he noticed how hot you were. “Oh, baby…” Pulling back he grabbed your glass before speaking. “I’ll be back, don’t move.”

“You think I can move?” 

“Even when facing death you still have a way with words.” He mocked before heading to your kitchen. He grabbed some light snacks that he knew wouldn’t make you feel even worse than you did, a soothing tea, more water and plenty of medication. 

Briskly, walking into the room with a light smile, placed everything down on the bedside table for you. “You need to sit up.” He leaned over and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you up gently so you could rest against the headboard. 

“Ney please don’t -”

“Don’t what?” His brows furrowed. “Look after my girlfriend when she’s ill? You do the same for me when I’m ill or injured…” 

“That’s differnt…”

“How is it?” 

“I don’t have to play football weekly in front of millions.” 

“Well if I get sick they can survive without me.” He grabbed the medication from the side before facing you again. “This will help with the headache and any pain.” He handed you the pill and water, watching as you tensed your body up at the shooting pain in your throat as you swallowed the liquid. “And this…” He handed you a spray bottle. “Will numb the throat pain, I can grab more things if you need them.”

“Thank you but I’ll live, it’s just a shitty cold.” 

“They’re the worst though.” He gave you a light smile. “Make sure you keep drinking, I read that the more water you drink, the quicker the virus leaves your body.” 

“I’ll try.” Giving him a faint smile you watched as he picked up the tv remote before handing it to you. He climbed onto the bed, laying on top of the duvet. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Watching TV with you?”

“But I’m ill.” 

“I worked that one out a while ago.” He teased. 

“Please Ney, you’ll get ill…”

“And? Won’t be that bad.” 

You had no strength to argue with him, as much as you wanted to tell him that he needed to leave you to die alone in the bedroom you knew he’d never get up and just go so you accepted your fate and he accepted his. 

The pair of you spent the day watching shitty movies and talking about the weirdest topics anyone could think of. It was the side you wished the world saw more of when it came to him. He was beyond kind and always looked out for others, even if it didn’t benefit him. Deep down he was one of the kindest people you’d ever met but it was a shame the world never saw him like that. 

That night he came into your bedroom holding two bowls, both filled to the brim with soup. “I made it myself.” He smiled like a child on Christmas. “Not sure how good it’ll be but I did try.” You reached your hand out to cup his jaw, moving your thumb along his beard with a smile. 

“Thank you.” 

He leant over again, kissing your forehead lightly as he set the tray on the bed, making sure he didn’t spill anything. “Anything for you love.” He handed you a bowl but stopped you before you could even think to take a sip. “Take this, it’ll kick in when you sleep, hopefully then you’ll make it through the night without any disturbances. That’ll make you better faster.” He handed you the pill before tilting your chin up so you could swallow the rest with water. “Good girl.” He winked, earning himself an eye roll from you as he set the water aside.  He grabbed his own bowl, this time crawling under the covers of your bed. 

“Ney you’re going to get sick.” 

“How many times have I told you that I don’t care?”

“Well, I do.” 

“I know and for that I am thankful but when we sleep together and share a house together it is rather hard not to catch one another’s illnesses.” 

“It can be avoided if you just left me in here…”

“And let your rotten corpse make the house smell? No thanks, I’d rather die with you.” 

A small jolt of laughter fell from your lings, nearly taking your breath away with how sore you really were from the illness. “Thank you.” You looked up at him, inching closer to him.

“You never need to thank me.” The two of you spent the evening waffling about anything you could think to talk about, in parts you almost forgot you were ill and then the pain in your throat stabbed you slightly just as a reminder to yourself that you were in fact ill and no amount of laughter would change that. 

“Ney?”

“Hmm?”

“What does the kitchen look like after you’ve been cooking in it?”

“Want me to be honest?” He asked as he started to eat. 

“Obviously.” 

“Looks like a bomb just went off.” 

“Brilliant…” 

—

“Okay so fuck, marry, kill but… it’s only the guys in the team.” You smiled up at him as you spoke, and the two of you decided to spark up a fuck, marry or kill debate whilst watching an episode of modern family. “Kyillan, Messi or Marqunihos…” 

“Fuck… um…” He thought long and hard about his answer, anyone would think he was taking an exam to decide his future. “Okay… marry Messi… fuck Marqunihos… and kill Kyllian.” 

“Killing off Kyllian with no mercy.” You laughed at the man who was now quickly rethinking his answers. “You know you can’t change your answer when you’ve said it.” You spoke, noticing the change in expression. 

“I know, I know… just thinking about what Kyllian would say if he heard me say that.”

“If it makes you feel better there’s definitely been moments where he’s thought that about you before.” 

He shook his head, a laugh falling from his lips. “You know what I think you might be right…. On more than one occasion I’m willing to bet.” As his laughter subsided, he turned his head away, coughing into his shoulder before facing you again. 

“You okay?”

“Me? Yeah… I’m fine, just got something stuck in my throat.” He flashed you a smile, a sign he was definitely lying when it came to things like this. 

“I think you’re lying…”

“Calling your boyfriend a liar huh?” He mocked before placing another kiss on your head. Neymar glanced at his phone, quickly noticing the time. “We better get some rest, you need the rest. With little rest you won’t recover fast.” His hand snaked under your chin, tilting your face up to look at him. He lowered himself down, kissing your lips lightly, almost scared that if he added force he’d hurt you. He wished he could have longed the kiss out, wanting nothing more than to have you all to himself for that night but he couldn’t and the truth was he could feel himself start to show symptoms of your illness.

“I love you.” 

“I love you too… thank you for all of this.”

“I don’t know why you thank me.” He pulled the duvet over the two of you, sinking into the pillows like they were clouds. “In sickness and in health remember?”

“We aren’t married.”

“Yet.” You didn’t need the light on to know he flashed you a grin.

His hands snaked around your waist, pulling you onto his chest. His hand traced your face and lightly made its way to your hair, knowing the feeling immediately relaxed you. 

“Ney…”

“Don’t you dare say that I’m going to get ill because I don’t care.” 

Giggling into his chest you nodded against his skin. “Fine… you win.” 

“I always do love.” He planted one last kiss on your forehead as the two of you quickly drifted off to sleep, both relaxed in one another arms, now finally not caring if one was sick. 

The next morning you awoke to the sounds of horrific coughing, it honestly sounded like your boyfriend had managed to choke himself in his sleep. 

“Ney?” 

“Hmm?” He called from the bathroom, suddenly emerging in the doorway his eyes were bloodshot and pools of sweat started to form on his forehead. “Oh, baby…” You gave him a sorry look as you took in his wrecked state. 

“You know…” He plodded back to bed. “You may have had a point about not getting to close when you’re sick, I feel like shit.” 

“I did tell you -”

“I know, I know!” He landed on the bed, rolling on his back so he could rest his head on your chest. “I say we just make the most of it and cuddle all day.” He looked up with hopeful eyes. 

“Well, I can take care of you.”

“You gonna rival my soup?” A smirk played on his lips.

“Rival it? Your soup is going to taste like dishwater compared to mine.”