#Rúben Dias oneshot

[itsgiovanna]

another side of you

pairing: fem!reader x rúben dias

type: one-shot

summary: you’ve been dating your boyfriend, jake, for three years. your relationship seems solid, but recently jake’s behavior has turned toxic, marked by jealousy and rudeness. complicating things, jake is friends with rúben dias, someone you definitely don’t get along with. but, when your relationship becomes too much, rúben reveals a protective and caring side that is completely new to you and him.

notes: this is my first one-shot with rúben, yay! hope you guys like it and i’m really open for doing a pt. 2 if this one goes well :) enjoy and let me know what you think in the comments! 🤍

warnings: abusive relationship, cursing, fluff.

face claim: dekota thompson

When you see couples kissing, laughing and having a great time together, it looks perfect. But, the truth is, it’s a lot messier than that. When you hit the three-year mark, things can get really tough, the excitement of those early days fades, couples start fighting for little stupid things that didn’t matter before. Well, you wished that having a discussion about who’s going to do the dishes was the problem with your boyfriend, Jake. He’s one of those guys who’s wonderful at the beginning, he used to bring you flowers, write sweet notes on post-it’s and take time to listen to you about a rough day at work. Now, it’s just a blank, it doesn’t even look like you both live in the same apartment anymore, not to mention he’d get unexpected angry with you.

“Where have you been, Y/N?” he says to you with a heavy tone, you try to hide the tiredness in your face and prepare for one of the many discussions you’ll have with him.

“We’re still working on that new project, I told you I’d be getting home at this time, it’s the only way we can finish it.” you go to the kitchen and hear his footsteps getting closer.

“It’s always work with you, do you really expect me to believe that?” as you turn around, Jake has his arms crossed and a rinkle on his forehead.

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you, Jake. I’m just really tired, I don’t feel like doing this all over again.” you try to leave, but feel his hand tightening on your arm. “Please, Jake.” your voice trembles.

“Don’t make me argue with you again about your lies. If you ever give me a reason, I won’t be the one who suffers.” you’re feeling a knot in your throat, but letting him see the tears would be worse.

“I won’t, Jake.” you try to look as calm as possible.

“Good.” he looks at you with disgust before letting go of your arm, it’ll probably have a bruise in the morning but you’ve learned how to hide it with concealer. “Don’t wait up, I’m going out.”

“What?” you ask, quietly, as he’s looking for his keys and opening the door.

“Are you deaf or something, Y/N?” he laughs.

“N-No, I just thought we’d spend some time together.” it’s like deep down, you still had hope he’d change, like at the beggining of your relationship, when everything was more than perfect.

“Don’t be stupid, I’d never miss Rúben’s party.” Jack says, opening the door and leaving, like if you’re nothing to him.

Of course, the Portuguese you can’t stand.

(…)

The sound of the alarm wakes you up, it’s early in the morning but, surprisingly, you’re very much happier to be up at this time. After a quick shower, trying to shake off yesterday’s worries, you’re headed over to the kitchen pouring yourself a cup of coffee and a slice of bread, the crunch offers a small comfort.

After finishing, you’re ready to go to work.

You walk down the hallway, hitting the button of the elevator and waiting for the doors to slide open, the weather is chilly in Manchester and a cold breeze is felt as soon as you’re outside the building.

At work, you settle into your desk, and Lily, your best friend, sits down next to you.

“Hey, you.” she smiles, giving you a side hug.

“Hey, Lils.” you try to sound happy, but she knows you too well.

“Ok, you’re gonna tell me what happened.” she turns her chair to you, with her arms crossed and, clearly, worried.

“It’s nothing… We had an argument because I was late, you know how it goes.” you don’t wanna look at Lily and, suddenly, the post-it in front of you looks more interesting.

“Y/N, you deserve way better than this.” Lily reaches and squeezes your arm, but the pain expression on your face makes the woman open her mouth in disbelief. “H-He hurted you.”

“Lily, it’s ok.” you try to explain but she is still in shock.

“This is not right, Y/N!“ she practically screams, but you cover her mouth.

“Yes, but.” you sigh. “Jake cares about me and, sometimes, he just gets jealous, that’s all.” you try to stupidly explain the situation to her.

“Jealousy isn’t love. You deserve someone who makes you feel safe, not scared.” she’s brutally honest, making you feel sick to your stomach. “You can’t ignore what’s happening, Y/N. A bruise, then what? A punch?”

“What if he changes? Maybe if we talk…” you try to convince yourself, but even with such weak self-esteem, it’s hard to believe it’s going to happen.

“I get that, but imagine how much easier life could be without the worry and fear.” she holds your hand. “Please, promise you’ll think about it.”

“Ok.” you nod, but still vulnerable.

(…)

“This place is fun. I’m glad we came out tonight.” You feel a wave of happiness wash over you. It’s been ages since Jake invited you out, and you’ve missed those carefree nights together.

“Yeah, but you could’ve dressed better. People talk, Y/N. Especially when I’ve got influence.”

Jake’s words cut deeper than you’d like to admit. He’s a manager for some of Manchester United’s players, and his status means a lot. He’s right; people do notice, and his reputation hinges on appearances. But, you don’t say anything. You can’t. You’ve learned that challenging him only leads to more anger, and the last thing you want is to set him off. So, you force a smile, trying to brush it off, even though you feel smaller and more exposed than ever.

Just as you’re trying to ignore Jake’s comment, the door swings open, and a group of men walks in. You don’t quite recognize, but Jake’s face lights up at the sight of them.

“Mate, over here!” Jake calls out, waving at them. He’s suddenly in a great mood, like he forgot all about what just happened. “Thought I’d bring some friends to liven things up,” he says, glancing at you. “Hope you don’t mind.” Jake smirks, clearly enjoying himself.

As the night drags on, you can’t shake the feeling of dread in your stomach. Jake’s mood shifts with every drink and his laughter grows louder, more reckless. The playful comments quickly turn into harsh ones, all of them about you.

“Seriously, Y/N, why can’t you just relax?” he snaps, slurring his words slightly. “You’re such a buzzkill.”

You try to laugh it off, but it feels forced. Rúben and Bernardo, one of his teammates for Portugal, exchange awkward glances, unsure how to react as Jake continues to let his anger spill out. Every time he raises his glass, you brace yourself for another cutting remark. You wish you could disappear, wishing for a way out of this situation. As Jake’s mood darkens, so does the atmosphere, and you can’t help but feel trapped, the night spiraling into an awful reminder of what you hoped would be a fun evening.

“Jake, please. This is enough, let’s just go home.” you grab his arm, trying to make him listen to you.

“Why? So you can keep complaining? You’re ruining my night!” he snaps, pulling away from you. “You’re always dramatic.”

You feel the weight of his words, but you push through. “I’m not being dramatic, I just want to leave. Please.” Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you manage to pull him toward the exit.

As you step outside, he stops suddenly, anger on his face. “You’re a whore, Y/N. Practically throwing yourself at them. Thought I didn’t notice, right?” Jake laughs.

Rúben, who has been watching from a distance, steps in without hesitation.

“That’s enough.” he says, positioning himself protectively in front of you. “You need to back off. Now.”

Now, Jake shifts toward Rúben. “What did you just say to me, Diaz?”

“I won’t tell you again, I’m sick of your ridiculous games.” Rúben’s voice is steady, but there’s an edge of intensity.

Jake’s expression shifts, confusion mixed with anger as he realizes Rúben isn’t backing down. “You think you can just step in like this?” he mocks, but Rúben doesn’t flinch.

Rúben meets Jake’s gaze steadily. “Yeah, I do. Someone has to stand up for her when you won’t.”

“You’re just trying to play the hero. You have no idea what’s going on between us.” Jake says.

“I know enough.” Rúben shoots back. “I’ve seen how you treat her. It’s not right.”

Jake scoffs, his anger bubbling. “It’s been three years and she didn’t leave, maybe she likes how I treat her.”

“Does she?” Rúben challenges, his voice firm.

“I don’t.” it’s the first time you’re speaking, definitely holding back tears, but finally, standing up for yourself. “I’ve put up with it because I thought it would get better, but it hasn’t. I deserve to be treated with respect, with love. You’ll never give me these things, you’re imature, selfish and manipulative.”

Jake’s eyes widen in disbelief, anger mixed with a hint of fear. “You really think you can just walk away from this?”

You meet Jake’s gaze, unwavering. “Yes, I do. I’m tired of feeling trapped.”

“Great. You can walk home, then.” he laughs, turning his back and going inside the bar. Anything is better than having to look at his face, you say to yourself.

“I’ll give you a ride home, if that’s okay with you.” Rúben offers, breaking the silence. You hesitate, the offer surprising you. After all, Rúben and his friends has never been anything but good manners with you. Why’d he do that?

“I’m not sure, I…” you say, crossing your arms to ward off the cold.

He shrugs, a slight smile playing on his lips. “People can change. Or maybe… I just see things differently now.”

After a moment’s pause, you nod. “Okay, I’ll take you up on that.”

As you climb into the car, the interior feels comfortable and warm. But, the air is thick with an unspoken tension, both of you processing what just happened. Rúben starts the engine and you look out the window, feeling a mix of gratitude and confusion. The ride feels both long and short, your mind racing with words you want to say. You think about how Rúben stood up for you, how different this moment feels compared to how he was with you all these years, he’d always shrugged you off, making you feel invisible even when you’ve tried to be nice. Now, he’s nothing compared to the past and it’s surprisingly good to see this new side of him.

As you approach your building, the tension in the air becomes palpable. You can feel the weight of the moment, the unsaid gratitude hanging between you. Finally, as he pulls up to the curb, you take a deep breath.

“Thank you.” you whisper, feeling a newfound sense of safety with him. Rúben gives you a reassuring smile.

“Look, I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you in the past. You didn’t deserve that.”

You blink, taken aback by his honesty. “It’s okay, I guess. I just wish things had been different. Leaving Jake was the best decision I’ve made. Ever.” you laugh it off.

“If it makes you feel better, he’ll probably lose his job too. We didn’t know that he treated you that bad, Y/N. He actually used to say horrible things about you.” Rúben’s expression turns upset as he speaks. “I wish I had known what was really going on.” He shakes his head, probably regretting his decision in the past.

You can feel the weight of his words, and for the first time, you see a side of him that’s genuinely compassionate.

“It’s hard to believe anyone saw it,” you reply, nervously. “I kept hoping he’d change, that things would get better. But hearing you say that… it helps, in a way.“ you try to smile, even if it’s just a little bit.

Rúben’s expression softens, but there’s a flicker of something deeper in his eyes. “You’re better off without him, Y/N. You deserve someone who lifts you up, not tears you down. Don’t forget that.”

“Thank you, Rúben. That really means a lot.” you feel your cheeks get warm.

As he prepares to leave, a part of you wishes he wouldn’t. “Take care of yourself. I’ll see you around,” he says, his voice low and with a side smile.

Making the decision to leave Jake feels like breath of fresh air. For the first time, in a long time, you envision a future filled with possibilities: new friendships, new experiences, and maybe even a deeper connection with someone who genuinely cares. Going towards your building, you feel lighter, yet, there’s a flicker of anticipation in your chest. You’re ready to embrace whatever comes next, and the thought of Rúben lingers in your mind, hinting at a future that might be more exciting than you ever expected.

[emwritesfootball]

Protective Jealousy | Rúben Dias

Can you do a one-shot of jealous/ protective Rúben Dias? Thanksss

A/N: dedicated to @bluemoonstonesy, the love of my (and John's) life <3

Warnings: alcohol, secret relationship, some light smut

- - -

“You’re staring again,” Stones says as he comes up to Rúben from behind, handing him a beer. 

“Can’t help it,” is Rúben’s reply as he takes a swig, his gaze still focused on you as you laugh at something Haaland says. His eyes narrow when Erling places a hand on your arm, though, and John briefly wonders if he’s going to have to hold Rúben back or stop him from taking on their star striker.

“I know what you mean,” John says, catching the eye of his girlfriend Olivia and giving her a small smile from across the room. 

Everyone is out celebrating the end of another great season and because you’re friends with a few of the WAGs, you’ve been invited to attend. The atmosphere is electric and you love being around it. You’d also come to see Rúben, but that was a secret you were trying to keep to yourself. 

You made eye contact with Rúben on your way to the kitchen to grab another drink, disappearing through the door. You were halfway through pouring the alcohol for your mixed drink when you felt a presence behind you, followed closely by hands wrapping around your waist and someone’s hard body pressed against your back.

“Hey,” Rúben murmured, kissing the side of your neck. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” You turned around, taking his face in your hands so you could give him a proper kiss. Rúben’s hands moved to grab your ass and deepen the kiss, but you stopped it before it could get too far. “We can’t - not here.” Both of you are breathing heavily after that kiss and you know just how good it could get if you let Rúben have his way, but you know it wouldn’t be a good idea.

“I know. Season’s almost over and then we’ll go public.” That was the agreement the two of you had entered this relationship on, and in that moment, you couldn’t quite figure out why you’d agreed to it. 

You stepped away from Rúben, trying to focus on pouring the rest of your mixed drink with your body still acutely aware of Rúben centimeters away. You let out a whimper as his hands slid up your sides to cup your boobs and he nibbled on your earlobe. “Rúben, please.”

“I should mark you…”

“But then people would ask questions.”

“It doesn’t have to be that visible. I could make it so only Erling could see it when he’s looking down your shirt.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, knowing Rúben would most likely mistake the response as approval. “He has not been looking down my shirt.”

“He has, but I know you’re mine so that’s okay.”

“Jealous there, Rúben?” You asked, smirking. 

“Not jealous,” he growled, kissing you hungrily. “Protective.”

“Same thing.”

“Absolutely not, Princesa.”

Your giggle was quickly stifled as Rúben picked you up and placed you on the countertop. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist as you made out with him while everyone else partied in the next room. 

“Okay, we really have to stop,” you whimpered as Rúben started to unbutton your jeans and slide a hand down your pants. “We can continue this at my place later. Leave separately within the hour?”

Rúben grabbed your hand and placed it against his growing erection. “Make that thirty minutes.”

It was the longest thirty minutes of your life, but now that Rúben had pointed out Haaland’s interest in you, it was obvious to you that he was staring down your shirt when you picked up the conversation from earlier. 

“I think I’m going to head out now,” you said, excusing yourself from your conversation with Erling.

“Enjoy the rest of the night with your boyfriend,” Erling replied, looking over you and nodding to Rúben.

“Wait…you know?”

“Everyone knows - we’re just waiting for Rúben to make it official.”

[frenchvanilla-mase]

fans are assholes | r. dias

summary: fans compare your pregnancy to fellow wags, leaving you to feel not so good.

notes: as requested! i don’t think i specified that it was twins but it still works. dad!ruben has to be my fav genre 🤪 i hope you all enjoy, some very cute at moments 💘 let me know what you all think! <3

IT WAS MATCH DAY, and although you were feeling rough like you had done the last 7 months, you had promised your fiancé you would make it to today’s knockout game rather than watching from home. he wanted you to support from the stadium, but he also wanted to get you out of the house too.

you were 32 weeks along and feeling very heavily pregnant.

yeah, it’s all fun and games when dating a tall man until you have to grow his unnecessarily large children.

all you wanted to do was lie down and moan this entire trimester, having nothing but a hard time with this one you were growing. you’d had every bad symptom imaginable, from the nonstop sickness and heartburn, to back and hip pain, difficulty sleeping and sore boobs, and now in the final stages you were experiencing braxton hicks, so yeah - all you did want was to lie down and whine. more than ever, you just wanted to stay in the comfort of your own home and nest.

“—you’re not even nesting though! you’re sitting here watching tv all day! get up and get ready!” rúben had said to you just yesterday morning after you’d told him you were too busy nesting to grab a coffee with him before training.

“mama, i think you should go tomorrrow . .” another sweet voice said from the sofa, glancing sympathetically in your direction.

your sweet boy, elias, didn’t want to offend you and make you feel like a slob, but he really wanted you both to go to his papa’s games. with school, you didn’t allow him to go to any late night matches which were always the majority, but tomorrow’s kickoff was 3:30pm and when he pitched the idea, you felt awful for feeling like you’d deprived him of some fun memories.

you really didn’t want to go, but your baby boy deserved it. he’d been working so hard in the last weeks of school and rúben would agree that you needed to take him - he wanted you both there just as much but he also knew not to tell a pregnant woman what to do - he wasn’t the one carrying an 8lb baby around in all summer.

“you nearly ready, baby?!” you called from your room, trying your best to look acceptable for today’s outing. you couldn’t remember the last time you’d done your makeup and styled your hair so neatly, baby dias was really kicking your butt that you hardly had any energy after a shower, let alone doing your makeup and hair.

you really needed them out so you could go back to your old self.

you didn’t remember pregnancy being this hard with eli. with him, you were able to get through the rest of school with him growing in your belly! taking notes and listening in class. sure, you had sickness and a sore back but that was really only at the start and at the end. given, you were younger and full of energy.

eli came along in the last of your teen years but you wouldn’t change anything for the world, same with rúben. he blamed that baby boy for being the reason he pushed himself so hard to get where he was today. he was such an easy pregnancy, and an easy kid.

being honest, you felt more unprepared for this new baby as a grown adult than you did as a teenager back in 2016.

with a few thuds across the landing and a solid jump at your bedroom door, you turned to see your 8-year-old all ready holding two thumbs up. with a man city kit on and trainers, he looked like rúben more than ever. seriously, if you got a photo of rúben back then, it was like looking at eli with a slightly different haircut. it scared you so much. “ready!”

traffic was always bad no matter what time you left, but you got there in one piece and already left eli with one of your closest friends and bernardo’s wife, ines, while you had to run to the bathroom even after such a short journey. jeans were longgg out of the equation so you’d gone with some loose, white trousers to go with the blue football shirt, hoping they didn’t wrinkle too much but still looked good with the outfit. “you are glowing!”

“no, it’s probably just my highlighter,” you pointed to your cheekbone as ines laughed cheerfully.

“no! you look amazing, what are you talking about?! i have missed you!” she couldn’t help but hug you again. “you’re ready to pop!”

she felt your bump and you huffed a sigh, pulling your sunglasses down, “i know, it feels like it.”

you didn’t really like being out this far along, not because you were afraid, but you were at that stage were you were starting to feel gross. like, you looked like a whale no matter what you wore or styled yourself to look like. realistically – you were one of the most beautiful pregnant women the internet had saw. truly, you may have felt like an elephant, but you were still posted on WAG accounts, getting shared by millions of women who begged they could only look as good as you when pregnant or better - envied you for still looking so hot while suffering the struggles of pregnancy.

how?! 😭❤️

life’s not fair!!!! 😫

what’s her secret?!!! 😍😭🙏🏼

but you could have gotten a thousand comments like that . . but all it took was the one bad one.

fucking hell, keep her inside 😂🫣

who is that??

🤣🤣🤣🤮🤮

a lot of the time you didn’t care because you knew how the internet worked, and you know the majority were sad-little-pathetic-football-fan men. they barely impacted you.

when it was women on the other hand . . .

“i just can’t believe one woman would say that to another woman,” you tilted your phone to show ines the replies. “what happened to the whole ‘girls help girls?’” you had to put your phone down before you ended up on a gossip page for arguing with people in your comment section.

“it’s always down to jealousy, babe. they hate you ‘cause they ain’t you,” she pointed, the same thing you had told her when she got her first negative comment, and you smiled at her attempt of making you feel better. she was such a good friend.

the internet was a weird place. your life was a weird place, you didn’t think there’d be a day people hated you for simply being with a person. you found it weird paparazzi followed you around when rúben was the famous one. you found it weird there were accounts dedicated to you when you didn’t do anything. it caught you off seeing people notice every little thing about you or knew things you forgot you’d explained. it did add a little bit of pressure knowing you were being watched and most likely compared to other beautiful WAGS. you’d be lying if you didn’t say you’d put on makeup in fear you’d be posted all over those news articles and WAG accounts.

you forgot how stressed matches made you until kickoff, two minutes in and already overthinking how this would go down. rúben had your heart fluttering nontheless with how he ran up and down the pitch, giving orders all sweaty and even repping the captain band for a bit. it made you feel real good about your baby daddy.

“come on, pa!” your son would shout when a bit of a ruffle would occur, his father speaking passionately to the ref with frustrating hand movements.

the halftime whistle blew and you let out a breath, fanning yourself as your body relaxed for a small moment. 0-0. “ma, i need to go to the bathroom.”

“me too, let’s go!”

perks of dating a footballer? renting out their own box for friends and family - including the private bathroom. no queues around hereee.

walking through the rows and steps, you couldn’t help but feel eyes pinned to you. ines would tell you because you’re a WAG of a player (you regret ever educating her on that term) but really you felt like it was because you looked like a whale making her way through the stands.

eli convinced you to do a lap of the stadium just once to ‘stretch your legs’ when really it was something he always liked to do as he believed it ‘made halftime pass quicker’. so hobbling around with few staff members recognising the kid (or rather seeing the clear evidence he was a mini rúben) , you strolled around the packed building, trying to squeeze past football fans, getting stopped once for a picture.

“thank you so much!”

“no worries at all,” you waved to the two girls, shooting them your kindest smile. they were so lovely, and even complimented you for ‘pulling off pregnancy so well’.

“you’re sLayiNg” eli mocked them, taking your hand.

“shut up,” you tutted. you appreciated being told you were still slaying.

“matt!”

the 8-year-old suddenly bolted to a familair security guard in a neon vest who was delighted to see the boy. “my man!”

you didn’t bother rushing over, you were out of breath as it was and decided to just lean on the wall while elias got his quick catch up, waving at matt instead. halftime was almost over. you should be heading back now.

“—not the best one though.”

“—no, sasha is definitely the best wag.”

i swear, the word ‘wag’ triggers you like nothing else.

you tried not to look around, but to your left, you could make out two bodies mingling with each other. both wearing light blue tops with stylish jeans and trainers, the two girls waiting outside the bathroom, trying to talk quietly between then in a mumbled manner.

you were a mum - you had mastered your hearing to hear the grass grow.

“–but sasha’s not pregnant?”

“–but if she was, she’d have a cute bump, not . . ”

their silence had you believe they’d glance in your direction, and it took every bone in your body not to stare dead on at them with a smile to let them know you heard every word - but you didn’t. you played oblivious and stayed watching eli, a forced sweet smile on your lips.

“–foden’s girl always has a cute little bump too!”

“–oh my god, yes. she’s stunning.”

“–he’s stunning too, to be fair.”

“eli, come on son!” you wanted to bang your head on the wall not wanting to endure the conversation anymore. now you’d tune in, you couldn’t tune out.

“–ok. bye matt! see you later,” he didn’t waste a second to return to you. “see you soon, buddy!”

you waved at matt and led him through the crowds, not meaning to hold his hand so tight until he pointed it out. “ow, ma, you’re hurting me.”

“sorry baby.” you didn’t sound sorry but you felt utterly hot and bothered. and not in the good way.

for some unreasonable reason, a small line of carts drove through the halls, and you stood against the wall as they passed by, holding your son by his shoulders. you could hear a small utter of whispers from your side but refused to turn your head. you really needed to fucking sit down.

“—dias’ girl! look at the size of her!”

“–rob that’s so mean! she’s pregnant!”

“WOW!” eli stole your attention as he almost stepped out in front of a last minute one zooming by. you smiled, and quickly manoeuvred him on your way.

“keep going, keep going,” you shuffled behind him in the stands, but stopped amidst a waiting line as someone caused hassle. your foot kicked something. “oh i’m so sorry!”

you accidentally tapped your foot to a lady’s handbag, but she smiled and waved you off. “you’re alright, don’t worry!” shortly adding, “i’m not surprised!” glancing to your belly.

it wasn’t malicious, but it was about to be the last straw of some floodgates. “ha! i know . . I’m like a whale.”

“how far along are you?” her friend asked.

“about 7-8 months,” you smiled sweetly, ignoring the fact they didn’t assure you that you didn’t look like a whale. thanks.

“oh wow!”

“i know,” you fake laughed. why wasn’t this line moving?

“is it twins or just the one?”

you tried to stop your eye twitching. who in the right kind said that?! was that . . a backhanded compliment?! what that even a compliment?! or was she genuinely asking in a stupid and nosey manner? “no, but it feels like it,” you fake laughed, and they did too. twats.

“oh my! you’re so big!”

“he or she will be a big boy or girl,” the other corrected with her pint in hand, knowing her friend’s words had just flown out of her mouth.

“yeah . .” you were done with this conversation but you didn’t dare be rude. thankfully, the line moved, and they waved goodbye. “congratulations!”

“thank you!” you replied, turning back around, mouthing absolute knobheads.

“mum, i don’t think you’re a whale,” eli’s hand patted your own that rested on his shoulder, bringing you back down to earth.

your heart thumped and although he didn’t look at you, your heart melted to a puddle as you squeezed his shoulders and ruffled his hair, knowing you’d embarrass him with a kiss. “thank you baby. you’re always to sweet to me.”

and he was. you actually . . wanted to cry. shock.

“hey!” ines greeted. “where’d you guys go?”

you only shook your head and nodded to you son who was standing again, ready and recharged for more yelling. you felt ines squeeze your hand and you looked at her, “are you ok? you look . .”

“yeah, i’m fine,” you dabbed your eyes and put your sunglasses back on. “just . . stupid stuff, and then e said something really sweet and i just,” you held your heart which made her laugh and reassure her for the time being. “ok, but . . you can tell me, y’know?”

“just being emotional,” you said the obvious, making her laugh as you leaned into her for support.

you would tell her later, but right now, you were going to use the rest of the game as your excuse to start screaming.

-

the game ended on a win. you saw rúben briefly when the players walked around and applauded, and eli mirrored his excitement and happiness, waving and calling to him as he spotted you guys. he was ecstatic you could make it.

it was after 6 by the time you got home and settled. you were about to order food when you second guess your options, today’s events replaying in your mind:

look at the size of her!

sasha would have a cute bump.

you’re so big!

you knew you were pregnant but there were far nicer things to say to a pregnant lady. what a bunch of assholes.

instead, you cooked some carbs up for eli and made yourself a seperate dinner, feeling the need to watch what you were eating now - you’d be giving birth soon and all those pregnancy cravings didn’t just leave when the baby came. you weren’t silly - you weren’t going to deprive yourself of food, but maybe they had a point - why wasn’t your bump considered cute? was it hard to tell you were pregnant? what were you doing differently?

you were on the verge of calling sasha and asking her what she put in her green smoothies when the door opened.

“meu amor?”

“in here champ,”

something rúben didn’t expect to see what you lying on the couch with a salad balanced on your bump, and you munching away like it was a 5-star dish. “what’s this about . . ?” he smiled sceptically, dropping his bag to the floor.

“what’s what?”

“that.” he nodded to your plate.

you shrugged. “took a notion for it.”

“for . . a salad?” he clarified, looking down at you, entertained in some sense.

your craving for the last 5 months had been anything with chocolate frosting on it. rúben had watched you talk yourself out of buying a tub of it on its own because you knew if was weird and would have to bake go use it.

“yeah.”

to be fair, the salad was tasty, and you were enjoying it but . . at 7 months pregnant? rúben tilted his head. “where’s eli?”

“is his room.”

“he had salad too?”

“he had pasta and garlic bread.”

now he knew something was up. you? not eating garlic bread? italian in general?

someone had said something to you.

he looked at you concerningly, but he was too afraid to ruin the peaceful moment. you seemed calm. he had won a game and you were in a good mood today. baby boy or girl mustn’t be giving you too much trouble so that was a win in itself. so he just leaned down and kissed you lovingly. “hi.”

“hi,” you smiled, pecking him three more times before he rose again. “well done today.”

“thank you,” his hand touched your belly for about two seconds before you swept it off smoothly with your own, squeezing it instead. you smiled up at him again, “love you.”

he kissed you again trying to hide his confusion – but something was up. you were being odd. “love you too.”

and he left and headed for eli’s room, leaving you to let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding before slouching again and continuing with your dinner.

-

the rest of that evening, rúben was correct. you weren’t yourself.

your mind was somewhere else, and your head wasn’t out of your phone. constantly scrolling, you had overanalysed every picture captured of you today and tried not to nitpick. reading comments. comparing yourself. he wondered what you were doing.

but everyone else did have small bumps. everyone’s looked so cute. they didn’t use pregnancy as an excuse to eat whatever they wanted or slack with self-care. they still wore tight clothing. they still looked gorgeous. you began to compare yourself to all these other wives and girlfriends on the page, wondering how on earth they looked that good.

ummmm, ‘cause maybe they’re 12 weeks along and you’re triple that?

the next morning, rúben kissed you in the kitchen before leaving. “what’s that?”

“what?”

“that,” he nodded to the drink in your hand.

“a smoothie?”

“for breakfast?”

“well yeah,” you furrowed your brows, and he immediately shook his head, pulling that judgemental, disapproving look you sometimes wanted to punch. “no, no, come on, don’t be silly, now,” he almost laughed, “you need to eat something proper.”

“it’s a smoothie, it has everything i need in it?”

“y/n, make something to eat. you’re almost 8 months pregnant for crying out loud,” he looked at you seriously. he didn’t want to sound like he was scolding you or making you feel stupid but you knew he was worried about the lack.

overprotective rúben had always been a constant in your relationship but when you were pregnant — phew, “you got my baby in there.”

“–and he or she is looked after, it’s a healthy drink—”

he took it from your hand and kissed your cheek in the process, taking it with him to training with a smirk, “stop being lazy and cook.”

you were furious. you were actually annoyed that he had taken the drink himself and didn’t find it funny. he kissed eli’s head and the door closed, and you were left highly irritated.

you couldn’t see eli shrink, but he did, looking wide-eyed at the table as he considered his dad a brave brave man in that moment to do that to you - considering the look of your face.

and as a pregnant woman with her emotional struggling to stay in check - you lost it as they all blended together once eli was dropped off at school, sitting in a car park of a café you regretted going too now that you sat with your decaf latte and triple-choc muffin. the frustration quickly turned to tears as you had a moment, eyes in your hands, thinking over everything the last couple days.

yes you were pregnant, but was there a need to be that big? were you even that big compared to others? were you really that bad to look at? that unflattering? did it even looking like you were pregnant? the loose clothing probably didn’t help, but who wanted to wear tight clothing? pregnancy was hard - it was hard to glamourise it all the time!

you’d never cried over looking bad the first time you were pregnant, maybe once or twice when a pair of jeans didn’t fit or you couldn’t reach your shoelaces, but never over the way you felt about yourself. you actually were starting to feel disgusting, and it was embarrassing because you let randomers make you feel this way!

. . and then the pathetic-ness turned into anger because why were people such assholes?! how can they not keep an opinion to themselves?! making you feel bad about your baby!

. . and then the anger turned to guilt because your sweet little baby was just trying to grow and be healthy and you were upset over it. tears again.

you didn’t know how to fix it. the damage was already done, you had a month left, there was no going back now with salads and smoothies, you yanked your paper bag with your muffin off the floor, eating your money’s worth. rúben subconsciously popped into your head as he was probably eating some fruit salad or nutritious sandwich at this time.

oh rúben. you wished he was here but you also knew you wouldn’t want him near you at the minute, not when you weren’t feeling yourself and you had people in your comments telling you he was on his way of replacing you.

he would call you stupid, but rúben just wouldn’t understand. he wouldn’t get being on the other side, the built in competition that automatically comes with being a woman, more than ever with this lifestyle he had given you. one where you’re compared left right and centre with a certain standard to achieve.

you bet every handbag you owned, he’d screw his face up and go ‘are you serious’ if you told him your issue. he knew you were above anyone commenting stupid things on your posts and found it immature of you in a way if you did take those things to heart - i mean they were nobodies! jealous nobodies! but that’s easy for him to say, his comments are flooded with never ending support, guys praising him for his talent, physique and hard work and most girls telling him to hurry up and leave you. spamming with flame and tongue emojis, thirsting over your man just the way you did, only boosting his ego more which rúben did not need.

so you just felt silly, and picked at your muffin, accepting your were going to be a whale wag.

you felt like a slob when you got back home, staying on the couch after cleaning, and then crying except you were watching a movie to blame it on that.

you still couldn’t get comments out of your head, i mean what was an ‘expired wag?!’ or a ‘busted oven?!’ what did that mean? and why always the skull emojis?!

scrolling once again through photos of comparison, you scrolled onto a beautiful pic of your beautiful bestie, ines, and straight away phoned her. “hey.”

“hey! what’s up! what’s going on? why do you sound you out of breath?”

“why do you think?” you laughed.

“girl are you crying again?!”

and you started talking. you had to get things off your chest and you needed ines to make you feel better, to assure you and let you rant, and she happily did, after all, you’d always been there when she was having a moment.

“–what did rúben say?”

“nothing, i haven’t told him anything. he’ll just tell me i’m being ridiculous.”

“he won’t!”

“ines, he would, he’s not like bernardo. rúben’s harsh!”

“so are you! which is why i can’t believe you’re still crying over this!”

he was harsh in the good way, in the same way you were. you were both practical. real. realistic. you picked each other up and told each off when you were being ridiculous. pulled each other out their asses. brought you back down to earth.

but you just needed comforted at this current moment by your girl.

as you continued to chat and laugh more than you thought, the front door opened without your acknowledgment and rubes stepped through. freshly showered after a long morning of training, he instantly heard your voice rambling over the phone. he took notice of the tissue also crumpled on the floor by the door (you’d been carelessly tossing them for dramatic effect) and paused after he thought he’d heard a sad sniffle. he closed the door quietly and crept near the living room.

“i can’t help it, i do just feel . . blegh,” you felt like you were being ridiculous but you couldn’t help it. “like, why does everyone keep making a big fuss about it? am i really that massively huge or am i just not liked?”

he heard another woman’s laughter on your phone and recognised her as soon as she began talking to you, “y/n, i promise no one is making a fuss of it, it probably just seems in your face all the time because you keep going back to check. i promise the world is not broadcasting you,” ines chuckled sweetly, which followed your sad laugh also.

“well the wag world does!”

“y/n!” she laughed, “you’re overthinking it. i promise you have nothing to worry about. the only person who’s opinion should matter to you is rúben’s and everybody knows he has you on a pedestal!” rúben found himself smiling. he’d always been a fan of ines. “he’s called you his wife since you came to manchester! he’s always been proud to show you off, you look good - you look amazing! people are just saying that stuff about you to make themselves feel better.”

“mm, i guess,” you sniffed, holding your forehead. “i don’t know, it’s just been getting to me . . and i’m not saying to rúben because he’ll tell me i’m being stupid. i wouldn’t be surprised if he was leaving an hour earlier in the mornings to get away from me. it’s not like my looks can make up for my psycho-ness anymore,” you joked.

“y/n!” she tried not to laugh. “though, pregnancy psycho-ness is definitely real.”

it is, rúben mentally agreed also, though his heart still sank further as he heard you talk about yourself in such ways. he didn’t want to call you ridiculous but come on, you were pregnant! didn’t they all count as compliments to a pregnant lady?!

“it is,” you let out a sigh, “i wouldn’t want to be around me either, just this big angry rhino walking around the house,” you laughed together, “he goes to a paris event on friday anyway, he’ll get a break and have plenty of french models to—”

a clear of a throat had you whipping your head to the door, seeing rúben’s hard stare. your mouth went dry. “uhhh, ines i’ll call you back.”

you felt bad hanging up as she was speaking back, too shocked you’d been heard rambling for the last couple minutes. or probably longer! how long had he been standing there?!

“listen—”

“french models?! french models, y/n.”

“rúben, it’s not in context—”

“oh i heard the context, i heard everything,” he came in the room, not one spot of happiness found on his face. he was fuming. you could tell, and disappointed too, you felt like eli getting told off by him, throwing yourself back into the couch as he stood with that gruff, intimidating look, hands shoved in his pockets.

“you don’t get it—” you could already feel the tears welling in your eyes, though a pit of frustration was brewing in your chest hot and fast. this was going one of two ways.

“what don’t i get? you don’t tell me what’s wrong when i ask you!”

“‘cause you wouldn’t understand!”

“ok but what i do understand is my wife accusing me of what? getting to pick which ‘french model’ i want to take home next week?”

now your face fell flat, realising how ridiculous and cruel that sounded. you shouldn’t accuse him of that kind of stuff.

“rubes, i just—” your mouth felt dry again. tears brimming again, you could feel how hot they were. the words were on the tip of your tongue but you didn’t know how they were gonna come out.

“what is it? tell me,” he pushed, eager for you to actually get out what you wanted to say so he could help sort it. “i’m here to listen.”

and you did, you unleashed it all. “people are assholes. your fans are assholes. i’m sorry but i cannot believe the stuff people have no issue saying to other people - pregnant people at that! as if the 9 months aren’t hard enough, i have this mob of men and women on my back, judging and critiquing my every outting. i can’t do it anymore, it’s actually ruining whatever self-confidence i have left!” the tears were streaming as you began your rant, choking down sobs as you moved your hands, a fury behind all the sadness.

rúben crouched down, wanting to be nearer as you let it all out. “every day, every hour, i have someone online, reminding me off how big i am, how unflattering my paparazzi pic is, how whale-like i am! how hard it’s gonna be to shift this baby weight! i’m getting put in competition with every other pregnant wife and girlfriend of your teammate and showed how much better they pull it off! how gorgeous they look all the time! how their bumps are ‘cute’ and small and ‘suits them.’ i heard it myself at your game the other day! it’s like they’ve never seen an un-photoshopped pregnant woman before!” you met his eyes, realising you were probably being silly and that there were bigger problems in the world. “i just feel disgusting, rúben. i never felt like this with eli, i was in this perfect little bubble but this time so different. i don’t want to leave the house when i know a monstrosity of photos are getting taken of me, pointing out every flaw. i don’t have a cute, small bump! i do look like a whale! i can’t dress sexy! and i get what people are saying when they say it’ll be a bit before you can look at me again ‘cause god knows—”

“shh,” he quickly silenced you, placing a finger to your lips. his brows were furrowed as yours did, fed up of hearing you ramble about all the bad things about yourself. he felt pain in a way. he just couldn’t believe you actually thought these things about yourself. “wha— . . . are you being serious?”

“OH MY GOD!” you threw your arms up. see!

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, meu amor,” his big hands softly caressed your legs in front of him, along your smooth thighs to stop you from exploding again, “i’m sorry. it’s just . . i . . it annoys me that you let these things get to you, these random, strange people that you don’t even know. you take their opinion over mine. so mine doesn’t matter, it doesn’t count?” he looked you deeply in the eye, “how does that make sense? explain that to me.”

your head hit the cushion as you groaned but rúben held your hands comfortingly. he didn’t want to make you feel stupid, but he wanted to hear your thought process. “to me, it’s like . . you have the choice of walking into a room full of all these people who hate you, and you know the hate you, after being in one full of people you love . . and you go into the hateful one and are surprised that all these people are saying all these bad things about you when you could have just left it alone and focused on the lovely ones - from people who matter to you! who are actually in your life! do you understand?”

you nodded along, entranced by his eyes and how they were able to ground you alone. “you know that i think you’re the best thing in the world. you know i would love you if—” he thought off the top of his head, “you had 10 extra toes. a third eye. if you had a cow nose. elf ears!” your hair slipped silkily through his fingers, “you know i think you’re the most beautiful woman ever even dressed in a trash bag. i would still love you if you did wear trash bags. if you had a cow nose. if you weighed the same as a cow. if you weighed the same as a baby cow,” you broke a chuckle at that. “i’ve loved you through our ugly teen years, when i shaved my hair and your eyebrows were stick thin,” you laughed more as he let out a breath of relief, “i loved you when with vomit down your shirt and your hair dyed that weird colour—”

“rúbennn . .”

“what? and i loved you when you had eli in your stomach, and he was big baby,” his hand touched your belly, moving it in the same motion he always did because that’s when he got to feel the small kicks of this baby dias. “i loved you even more even when i saw how he came out,” he shot you a wildered look.

you facepalmed, dragging your hand down dreadfully at the thought of having to relive that moment all over again in over a months time.

his features turned as his thoughts turned sour, “why are you letting stupid fucking people affect you?”

“i don’t know . . i guess ‘cause so many people are saying it i . . it must be true to some extent—”

“y/n—”

“seriously, rúben. i don’t have a cute, small bump. ines and rebecca are always such sweet—”

“Y/N! have you SEEN the size of bernardo and phil next to me! is it any wonder they’re small! their child comes out the same size as them!” his hand shot out with passion.

now your head was in your hand with muffled laughter, caught off guard by his statement. “seriously! seriously, now you’re supposed to be the smart one,” he tried to look at you, that loving smile shining your way as his heart sang at the sound of you laughter. “you’re shocked that me, that we, have big babies . . that ines has a much smaller bump than you . . are you serious? that rebecca has a smaller bump than you? rebecca, phil and elway stacked on top of each other wouldn’t even reach the height of me!”

“rúben,” you laughed, feeling an actual blush of embarrassment coat your face at how stupid he’d made you feel, but in a good way.

he was so right. what were you thinking?

“i’m like, the biggest guy on the team! sorry i didn’t realise that was gonna be a problem for you,” you lightly hit his shoulder to wrap up the sarcasm, still giggling. he looked at you from the floor, his hands still on you, on your leg on bump — the bump that he did make look small next to his hand. “and please remember you’re a month away from giving birth, you’re supposed to be a healthy size. and i been going to training an hour earlier ‘cause i know when this one comes along, i’ll not want to go as much and i’ll want to stay with you both. i’ll start working on my dad bod . .” he felt the small, subtle movement happening inside, but he could feel them if he kept still enough.

“you’d look good with both.” you rolled your eyes.

“and you’d still look better. y/n, you’re not a whale. please stop saying that,” he finally crept to his feet, climbing on the couch on top of you, leaning his arm behind your head. “you are the most beautiful-est woman to me and no-one, NO-ONE can convince me otherwise. you’re my standard of perfect, of gorgeous and sexy and all the rest of it. i’ve found you sexy before this baby, during this baby, and after this baby — i still get comments of people telling me how ugly i look when you’re next to me! you bring my value down!”

his arm wrapped around your neck while the other threw itself over your bump, shifting and snuggling into the sofa more comfortingly, you relaxed alongside him, the tears no trickling down but with good reason behind them as you were shocked to find your love growing even more for rúben when you thought it was impossible. “i don’t know what comments you’re seeing because all i see are the ones calling you a milf, and it takes too much time to try and report them all.”

you held his hand at your shoulder, his lips kissing your cheek repeatedly, over and over again. you knew how much he loved you. “yeah, you’re right. fans are just . . assholes.”

“fans are assholes,” he agreed, stroking your cheekbone, “. . don’t listen to them. you think i listen to everything they say about me?” he perked a brow.

sometimes! you wanted to say but knew better. it was rhetorical question, and you knew his sweet intentions.

“alright? i don’t so why should you? you’re hot stuff babe,” he looked at the side of your face, inspecting every little freckle and faint scar, he just wanted to never stop kissing you. “i love you the way you are. eli loves you for the way you are, and this baby,” he rubbed circles on your belly, “he or she is going to be so unbelievably lucky when they see who they have as their mam. i know it’s not the smallest bump but i think it’s the cutest i’ve ever saw, with my baby girl or boy in there,” he kissed the size of your stomach. he grew more and more excited each day as he got a day closer to meeting who was inside. he couldn’t wait. “. . who they get their good looks from and skill and personality - well, i mean i would like to take some credit for the both of those ‘cause i mean their daddy is pretty c—”

you playfully jabbed his side, making him laugh. “yeah, he’s the hottest one on the field,” you glanced at him, kissing his cheek.

one thing about him, he’d always blessed you with beautiful children.

“yeah, and their mum is coolest one at the school pick up,” his lips trailed along your cheek to your jaw, the slight scruff of his beard tickling you. “you’re the biggest milf to walk the planet–”

“rúbennn,” you chuckled, blushing at his words whilst trying to push him away.

“i’m serious,” he proceeded, peppering kissed down your neck, “and she’s coming to paris with me for the weekend so she can outshine me like she does at every event she comes to.”

you laughed at that, smiling dreamily as he proceeding to love on you.

“and eli?”

“elias gets to stay with his favourite uncle who owes a favour,” he winked.

“hmm. ok.”

“and i’ll give her a reason to cry if she starts thinking like that again,” he whispered in your ear.

your heart slipped a beat. “oh yeah?”

“ohh yeahhh,” he nodded, standing to his feet, not before a loud ‘smack’ echoed the room as he mimicked what your poor backside would get if you kept up that kind of behaviour. “see you upstairs, mama.”

you blew your hair from your face, heart thumping, your hands slowly crept up to your adorable little bump where you caressed it gently as he headed for upstairs, whispering softly, “you are soo lucky he’s your papai.”

your heart raced as he peeled his hoodie off, back muscles staring right at you as he headed for your room, you felt your insides begin to sizzle.

— but you were even luckier he was your husband.

[oh-saints]

ruben dias and daughter of pep guardiola.

man.. when i got this request, all i keep thinking about is some forbidden, enemy-to-lovers trope so here it is! i hope you like it!

enemy

you and rúben dias can never be in the same room and it's the main reason why your father's head balding. so what changes?

rúben dias x guardiola!reader

word count: 4.2k

tw: 18+ for graphic sexual contents included inside (aka a sprinkle of smut); drinking, swearing, unprotected sex (and some angry/hate sex)

note: i was writing something along the line of enemy-to-lovers but got stuck midway until this request came in from @kkilp so here we are. my first smut? dang that feels weird saying it was also inspired mildly by anthony and kate of bridgerton (TV series; s2, 2021) but as usual, i happen to write at dawn so ofc this is not proof-read and feedbacks are always welcome! (now lemme go back to repent my sin and go back writing the charles leclerc story i've got...)

“another flower from your daughter, isn’t it?”

rúben could hear one of the coaching staffs commented pep as the spaniard walked in with a huge bouquet of varied flowers on his arms, almost blinding the old man’s sight for direction. pep only laughed to answer his staff’s clarificatory question because it had indeed become a habit for that particular daughter of his to send a humongous array of flowers to her father whenever he and his team won something.

last night happened to be the time when the team had won another EPL title. thus, the biggest arrangement being sent to her father’s office. it was funny for some as she always matches the size to the prestigious level of a trophy.

but of course the entire building loves her. she’d sent each and everyone in this building a bouquet, directly to their houses, albeit in smaller size than the ones delivered for her father. but still, complete with the words hard work always pays off. congratulations, champions! typed perfectly in the middle of the card.

being a florist, she’d also send a basket to anyone who was celebrating with carnations, anyone who was newly having kids with hydrangeas, anyone who was injured with sunflowers.

but him.

he’d like to think himself as someone not petty so no—it wasn’t because he didn’t get a bouquet for himself. he could buy himself one so big the smell would’ve made him throw up for days if a mere basket of flowers was his problem. he just didn’t understand why people couldn’t see how she acted beyond the artificial care and love she’d faked behind those flowers.

rúben was probably the only one who couldn’t relate towards all of the love directed towards her. he could only hope the people would soon belief what he’d gone through, as everybody thought he was crazy for saying she was cold, aloof and rather unfriendly as of late.

as of late being the key word here because god damnit, they used to be so… close? well, he thought they were close but it seemed that for her, they were amicable at best. because one day, she just started to shut him off and she wasn’t shy to show him that. and only to him, no one else. no one of close friends would—and could—do that overnight.

it was similar to those mean girls kind of story plot where you know she’d give you scrutiny so directly but so indirectly in the eyes of everyone else. except that the ending was no where near, unfortunately, for she was now sporting off the cold shoulder to him throughout the whole EPL celebratory party.

rúben was inclined to believe she intended to rile him up even, as she danced the night away with those crazy drunkards he called his teammates. jack, kyle, john amongst the name. he prides himself in moderate amount every time he drinks and he intends to keep it while he’s still an active athlete, but fucking hell did he want to drink till his head bang in the same rhythm as the bass pounding the dance floor.

he just wanted to barge in the midst of the group and had fun with her, just like they used to back when he was still in his freshman year on the etihad side. if she didn’t like it, then good. it gave him the chance for confrontation of whatever it is she was doing.

fuck it, he’d said to himself as he got up from his seat, tired of being the sober friend to a bunch of kids. might as well have my fair share of fun, even if it didn’t involve getting her into the picture.

but in all honesty, she’d seen this move of his. this was what solidified her justification of staying away from him. the moment he was bored out of his mind, that was when he started preying for another long-legged bimbo to bring home.

she could only pray for the woman’s well-being afterwards because she’d learned it the hard way.

for her, rúben was siren personified. he’d talk his way to your pants, feeding you to his soul until you’re left dry. thank god he didn’t make it way past the whole sexual thing—she’d kept him at bay for so long that he’d got bored and the moment she was about to give in was the moment she found out about him moving on.

that night, when she dropped by his house for an impromptu netflix and chill session, when she was ready to accept whatever his advances that night. only for his leading lady to greet her by the door, wearing only lingerie and his shirt unbuttoned.

despite them going apart now, it never soothed her heartbreak.

but she had to see him all the time, thanks to her father’s job. that fact upset her beyond belief that she couldn’t seem to escape him. especially when everyone talks highly of him, when everyone loves him.

there were so many times she wanted to spill out the hot tea but she resisted because it wouldn’t do any good—for her, for him, for her father, for anyone. people would take her as a bitter bitch that didn’t get the dick, she’d held higher regards for herself than to stoop so low.

“let him go and have fun with me.”

the club’s lightning was too dark for her to make out who the hell that was, whispering behind her like he had the world in his palm. obnoxious dick, she’d muttered to herself.

“what did you just say?”

“go away.”

men, couldn’t take a no for his answer as he grabbed her wrist rather harsh, trying to exert some power over her. “no, you didn’t—"

“she said go away, mate,” weird how she knew it was rúben standing behind her before she could see him. “which part of that sentence did you not understand? should i cut off your hands instead?”

the stranger tried to hard not to be intimidated by rúben’s stare but his grip on her hands said the otherwise. “you wouldn’t.”

“would you like to try?”

if she wasn’t just assaulted by the man, she would’ve taken a pity because rúben seething anger and deep distaste like you’re a disgusting human being that doesn’t deserve to live wasn’t something she’d like to experience herself.

“are you okay?”

she didn’t realise she was watching the man scurried off as if he’d caught on fire when rúben went ahead and touched her herself. she’d froze at her place, not knowing where to stand because his hand was placed exactly where the unwanted touch happened—partly she got reminded of what had just happened to her, partly she’d gladly take rúben’s touch over anyone else she didn’t know of.

“hey, you’re okay?”

she couldn’t comprehend what was happening and it felt suffocating to be the centre of everyone’s attention, so she dashed for the restroom for a bit of space.

“talk to me,” she could hear rúben’s voice from the other side of the door, solid 10 minutes after she entered the loo. he’d understood, she whispered to herself as if it was a wonder rúben was smarter than he let on. “please say you’re okay.”

as if she didn’t know the rúben that deserted her for another woman.

god, she hated him for doing this to her. “go away, rúben!”

“like hell i will,” he spat ferociously behind the doors that it startled her. but the soft voice that followed after was more shocking it ran shivers down her back. “i need to know you’re okay.”

the caring thought that laced his words didn’t escape her because she knew, no matter of an asshole rúben was, rúben was always genuine with his words. it was his past actions and the difference between actions and words that scarred her for life—well, at least up until now.

but it was enough for her to choose to shut up instead of acting based on her turmoil of emotions. she’d silently tidy up, fixing her hair and lipstick, while watching the women coming out of the loos one by one till it was only her left. in hope he’d left if she stayed inside for far too long for his liking, then she could sneak out of this place from the backdoor.

all plans were shattered, though, when the door slammed wide open and revealed rúben bulldozing his way inside like a monster truck exhibition. the veins on his arms and neck was bulging angrily, as angry as his face.

“what the fu—”

“i said i need to know you’re okay,” after he spit the words as if that should be obvious to her, he then proceeded to lock the door behind him. “didn’t you hear?”

cowards, afraid anyone walk on you in a woman’s bathroom? “i did, but it doesn’t mean i have to answer you.”

“puta madre,” if she didn’t hold on to the painful memory he’d learned spanish from the ex-girlfriend she met one night too long ago, she’d go meek and weak at his impeccable multilingual tongue. “you’re so frustrating! why is it so hard for you to tell me so?”

“why do want to know?”

“because some asshole just groped you in the ass!” one of his hands shot towards her direction, gesturing from her head to toe in frustration. of her not seeing his point. “surely you’re not okay. no one is after such terrible event.”

“there, you said it youself. i’m not okay,” she rolled her eyes at his reply, hands folding in front of her chest. “why do you care, anyway?”

he shot him a look that was scaring her, and not of the violence he was capable of doing. “do i have to have a reason to care about you?”

“go back in there, rúben,” she tried to stand her ground, faking a rather tired expression when, in fact, she was masking her fear as he dared himself to step closer to her direction. “your drunk friends need your care more than i do.”

his eyes remained intense, burning her down as if she was merely a clothing to burn, as he stepped in front of her. his strong aura forced her to look up at him, and she tried to put some defiance into it in order to show she was in control. or trying to.

“but i don’t care about them,” he lowered his voice as he didn’t see the need to speak louder when his opponent was right under his nose. he knew he’d got her when she shifted her stance from the right leg to her left one. “i care about you.”

the statement obviously caught her off guard, as outmost surprised laced the pair of eyes that—luckily—resembled her mother more. rúben took the chance to close down the gap between their lips, as fast as lightning before she changed her mind, goading her to open up.

as soon as he heard her groaning in surrender, the inside of him ignited in delight. rúben pushed more than what she thought she could give, for he knew she could give more than she thought. his effort drove her to the edge of the sink behind her and she grunted at the crash against the porcelain, but bloody hell the sound effected rúben so much he felt blood rushing south and adrenaline took over his brain.

he’d lifted her up and placed her on the sink in a pace so swift she’d only managed to blink once. he’d slid his hands down her calf, up north towards the rim of her sundress, and she gasped at his ardent touch. felt so hot against the air conditioner of a room so big but only filled with the two of them.

rúben took the liberty to explore her mouth the moment the passage was opened. despite having his eyes closed, he savoured each and every stroke he made for the mental map of hers and he savoured the feeling of her hands sliding everywhere her hands could reach in desperation to hold on for herself while her body unconsciously gave away her control the moment rúben touched the edges of her panties.

she’d arched her back so flexibly rúben had to pull back a bit and admired the crescent shape she was bending herself to be. but not even the moon could compare with the beauty puny in his hands, with pink mauve lipstick smeared lightly and dishevelled hair against the mirror.

“god, you’re beautiful,” and it was all it took for her to sit up and grab his shirt to forcefully meet her lips halfway.

and for rúben, nothing was sexier than when a woman tried to put up a fight against him, even after well-knowing he’d win anyway. so he’d let her think she won, nuzzling his nose downwards, smelling her perfume, her body odour and her desperation all in one. he’d left kisses on his way down, the same moment his hands peeled down the flimsy strap of her sundress, and he swore he’d never touch finer things than the shape of her.

he’d palmed every surface his hands could reach, and took every choked breaths she emitted from his touch. but when he touched the centre of her underwear and felt the drip she was heavily producing, he’d become a goner. he couldn’t take it anymore.

without detaching his lips from her healthy skin, he pulled back an inch to give himself space to undo his pants. when she realised this, she’d drop her hands from his hair and shoulder to help him stash away the jeans. they laughed at this somehow, before they turned muted when rúben dias junior was out of the cage, standing tall and unwavering like him.

the anticipation killed him because jesus christ, with the desire running down her face, he wouldn’t be able to do much anymore. so he kissed her before she could have any second thoughts while his hands aligned himself to her. the first skin-to-skin contact left them breathless, in every literal sense of the word, and rúben could see what she was feeling before she could say anything. the way she closed her eyes in ecstasy as he slipped himself inside of her couldn’t lie.

“oh shit,” he’d read normally women was the only who went all goo at a drop to a man’s voice, but this time rúben could piss himself hearing her doing it. “that feels so good.”

eyes closed, slow pants coming out of that gaping mouth and fucking hell she looks amazingly sexy. and she feels like how she looked like, good god. rúben couldn’t stop his hands from grabbing the sides of her face, some hairs scrunched in them, accidentally closing some parts of her mouth but it didn’t stop her from letting out hot, broken breaths when rúben started moving out of her.

“fuck, you’re so tight, baby,” the portugese giant nipped the bottom lips that looked so juicy from all the kisses exchanged between them, from him. “all for me, huh?”

“yes, you—oh!” she yelped like a siren when rúben slammed himself back to her. “do it right, rúben. do me right.”

rúben didn’t need further command to that, for sure.

she moaned so disgustingly dirty as he guided his cock back and forth, inside and out the now-slick fold, to the brink of heaven on earth. every time he pulled out, she’d moan in pleading, desperate to have all of him inside of her that anyone hearing her whimper would definitely take a pity on her.

“fuck! right there!” she screamed in pleasure as she held rúben’s wrist that was holding her in the face and she wasn’t lying about it. with the way she was rocking his girth and the pressure she’d put on her grip, she was close to the edge. “right there, right there!”

“come on, baby. let go for me.”

fuuuuuuck! ugh, fuck, fuck!

“oh yes, that’s right, baby,” he was now panting so hard the mirror above her was now covered in mist, but how could he stop himself when he looked down and there was the most amazing sight he’d set his eyes on. he ended where she began and she ended where he began. “that’s my girl.”

something inside of her clicked like the electric circuit and all the sudden it was black. but not a frightening blackout, more like black with stars on the back of her head. “fuck, rúben—”

rúben?

rúben dias?

the moment her brain registered the voice indeed belong to rúben dias, she went completely still that rúben had to break her moment. “hey, what’s wrong?”

she badly wished the earth could swallow her right now. the girth still inside of her be damned.

she pressed the crescent eyelids he’d come to love, for they looked as pretty as the moon outside, in a manner rúben didn’t want to know why. because it looked like she didn’t want to open her eyes to meet his. because it looked like regret.

“baby—”

“don’t, rúben.”

she cut him off with the sharpest blade available under her arsenal, her intonation, and at that moment it felt like those film moments when he froze after she stabbed her, digesting the pain and the shock that blanketed the moment.

“what did i do wrong?”

“this, rúben,” and she clenched her jaw, as if it pained her. as if it didn’t pain him to look at the expression she was sporting on her face now—here comes the old, cold you, rúben regretfully noted. “this is what’s wrong. what are you thinking?”

and there was the pair of eyes he loved, for they always speak the truth words lie about. but this time, rúben wished she didn’t open them, for they always speak the truth words lie about, and this time eyes and mouth were seething with anger.

“am i just another rebound for you?”

now that was a serious accusation. “where the hell does that come from?”

“you don’t like me, rúben,” if she wasn’t spitting stupid thoughts, rúben would certainly take the pleasure to fawn over her fiery stance right now. nothing pleased him more than putting people down to follow the order, and she certainly exuded rebellion from her eyes alone. “you never do.”

his large hand jumped to pull her face upwards to face him, rather powerfully to show who’s the boss and she just crossed the line. the movement caused his dick to slide back deeper into her, unexpectedly that she had to hold herself from moaning at the feeling—this feeling as a whole, more likely—but the distance he eliminated between them allowed him to inhale her suppressed whimper.

peering down to her in an arrogance manner she wanted to wipe from the faces of the earth, rúben raised his left eyebrow, challenging her back. “if i don’t like you, why did i just fuck your brains out?”

“as i said—”

“rebounds, you say?” and he didn’t intend to let her speak, as he instead pulled her closer to him by the waist. the sensation he could pull out of her mouth was the only thing he allowed between them, broken gasps and all. “if you know me as well as you think you are, then tell me,”

her chest was burning at the sensation he was whispering so close to her, inhaling what she exhaled, inhaling what he exhaled. on fire at the sensation of him pulling out slowly from her at the same time the hand on her waist travelled inside, towards the aching clit deprived of the friction from his groin.

“tell me, baby,” god, rúben wanted to close off the gaping mouth, as shut as the fluttering eyelids. “have you ever heard of me doing that? have you ever seen me, with your own eyes, doing that?”

“rúben—”

his hand was so close yet so far, caressing the insides of her thighs, and she hated the fact she needed him to touch her. now, or else she’d combust. “answer me.”

“no—”

“there you go,” and there was the satisfaction he’d recognised from the arch of her back and neck, as he hurled himself back to her soft spot, allowing him to pepper kisses along the underside of her chin, down along her throat, nailing her in her place further. “god, if only you knew…”

only when rúben pulled away from the space in the middle of her decolletages did she open her eyes once more, and she was rendered rather speechless at how rúben was looking at her. she was almost scared to ask but knew she needed the answer. “knew what?”

“it’s maddening,” the hand in her face moved to a different angle, now his forefinger was tracing the edges of her lips. the very one he destroyed with the harsh, heated kisses they exchanged. his artwork. “how much you consume my very being.”

before her heart could leap out of its place, rúben kissed her lips once more with so much fervour and everything else remained in his body. different to their earlier kisses full of lust, this one was lingering but unspeakable feeling and passion and lust and love.

love?

whatever they were feeling certainly wasn’t love, was it? they hate each other, for fuck’s sake.

“eyes on me, querida,” rúben’s voice snapped her thoughts away and she obeyed him, forgetting how easy it was to spare this particular man the hatred. before she saw that ex-girlfriend of his on the doorsteps, before she resorted to her self-defence mechanism.

“hello, there,” and he felt her melting away, as he recognised the whimpers she let out this time while he was rocking their boat in rhythm back and forth was nothing sort of what she gave 15 minutes ago. “there’s the eyes i love the most.”

love?

but before her mind could drift somewhere else, rúben finished off what he started. he drove her to the end fast and without mercy this time, leaving him helpless under his control of pace. his hand was no longer feathering the skin, they’d made themselves useful by dipping into the blossoming bud between rúben and her. the crude touch against her soft, plump crown was the striking contrast she needed to release herself for the second time, all frustration and thoughts were now focused on the finishing line. so focused that she didn’t feel herself shaking, trembling as rúben assaulted all of her senses—his kiss, his touch, his smell, his drive.

rúben sensed her going weaker from his all-out attack, not wanting to hold back himself either, not when he finally had her within his whim. he took her hands to curl them behind his neck and pulled up her knees so he could lift her up before turning their position around. he was now sitting on the lid of the toilet nearby while she sunk down on him and good fucking lord did she wrap him, all of his 9-inches, so tightly and so deeply like she was made for him.

and she felt it, too, for she sling her arms on his shoulder, hanging for her dear life. rúben couldn’t help but pull her in his grasp, closer than before—no air, no space between them—and the feeling of conjoining with her altogether almost undid him before her he had to stop himself from moving. rúben rested his head on her chest, wanting to calm himself down first as he placed open-mouthed kisses and nips on the outline of her nipples, but the action seemed to turn her on as he felt her clenching around him.

“fuck, don’t stop,” he involuntarily said, and she took it as an invitation to take the wheel from him and ride them out. “fuck, baby. fuck yes, i’m coming.”

“oh, yes, yes, yes!” she’d screamed as rúben manoeuvred her hips back and forth. combined that with the sinful components of his mouth against her breast, licking and sucking the sensitive bud like there was no tomorrow, it didn’t take long for her to reach her, by far, most satisfying high. “oh joder, rúben!”

she’d relish the feeling of soaring high in the sky all over again as she came down to earth. rúben was already holding her by the waist and a small part of her back so she didn’t crumble down trembling messily, small kisses were already scattered all over the hollow part on her shoulder blades, like he didn’t care if she just pulled out his hair so hard she was now afraid he’d catch up to her father’s balding.

“i love you,” but this time she didn’t go all ice on him. “i’m sorry i made you think the otherwise.”

and rúben, being the perfect gentleman, proved how sorry he was by sending her a bouquet of flower the next day. her, a florist, a bunch of imported fresh white tulips before she could wake up and go to the flower market early in the morning. how he did that when it wasn’t tulip season, she didn’t know, and the effort didn’t pass as overlooked by her eyes.

yes, the effort of scouting the rare tulips, but most of all the effort he’d go just to saywhat the flowers implied; i’m sorry. just like his words.

of course he was forgiven.

[joaofelix70]

INFORMATIONS! ☆

i don't make full angst stories, but some elements involving the category can be included. request me a smut (politely asking for no extreme bdsm kinks), fluff content too, which i'm passionate about. (anonymously or not). i apologize if your unproblematic ask wasn't reciprocated in the name of my busy activities. please, try to send me again or give me more details of your wishes, using the private inbox. feel honored to talk to the readers. love it infinitely!

── joão félix sequeira.

a crescent love, an ephemeral passion ── joão félix

summary: you and joão spent all the summer together. you even met his friends and brother. could this be the beginning of a crescent love or just an ephemeral passion? his friendship with his ex would ruin everything between the two of you?

69 with joão félix

summary: a concept of you and joão félix sharing jubilation and becoming one.

── dominik szoboszlai.

miss diplomat and mr. charming ── dominik szoboszlai

summary: your job is involving the commitment of unify the population and create interrelations to another countries, using the eurocup qualifiers and the hungary national team executions. you just didn't expect to fall in love with the no. 10's captain player.

── kostantinos "kostas" tsimikas.

none yet.

── rúben dos santos gato alves dias.

none yet.

[blueathens]

ACT ONE - Serendipity

OC x Rúben Dias AU - Scooby Doo Universe Dylan Phoenix x Rúben Dias

Also Features: Mason Mount x Dylan Phoenix (platonic), Dani Stewart (played by Fivel Stewart), Scooby Doo (played by a Great Dane)

Writing Rule||Character List||Navigation||Masterlist    

Series Masterlist

synopsis ⇢ In which a group of friends become very known mystery solvers at the age of 20, however the group started crime solving at the age of 16, but all took a step back due to a relationship falling apart within their group and the stress of school. Now they are out of school, and have already solved quite a few crimes to make a name for themselves. 

In this alternative universe, the group fight and reveal the truth about the monsters under the masks. The group consists of a two girls who were the first to befriend one another in primary school, then one of this girls dated the so called ‘leader’ of the group, before they fell apart and decided it be best to be friends - and then there was her cousin and his talking dog - together, though, they were Mystery Incorporated. 

Most didn’t take them seriously, still saw them as kids, and kids who were not skilled in the crime world, some took them seriously and would call them whenever they had suspicions.

Now we follow them as the venture through another mystery - The Black Knight.

(summary is subject to change).

main genres ⇢ found family, friends to lovers, exes to lovers, alternative universe,

↳ fluff, angst, and smut are all included into this series

warning ⇢ explicit content, graphic violence, gore, violence, mature themes, strong language, death, mental health and injuries, alcohol/drugs/smoking

↳ please refrain if you are sensitive to any of these themes. Please also keep in mind that not all warnings may be listed above - all warnings fit into the series though.

note ⇢ updates will be once a week, the day of the week has not yet been decided or what time it will come out on those days. Those will be sorted once planning is completed. I’m hoping this along with a few other things will help me get out my many months worth of writer’s block :)

↳ to be informed when there’s an update, you can either turn @blueathens​ notifications on, or ask to be in this series’ taglist.

status ⇢ planning

act one blurb ⇢ ‘If someone took one good look at Rúben right now they would think he was a fool. Which he was. He's a fool for Dylan. And if they noticed the smile painted across his lips they would think they were in the Louvre looking at a painting. A painting of the two fools. And if they watched the way Rúben was looking at Dylan then they probably would think they walked into a book. Cause the look that was on his face could only be found in story books, but here Rúben was, looking at Dylan as if she made the entire universe. And if they heard the way Rúben spoke her name they would think they were in a dream. Cause how can someone say such a simple name and make it sound golden?’

o. Mystery Incorporated - arriving soon -

[rubenfinity]

Voodoo ⤷ Rúben Dias

genre: fluff

words: 1.3k

summary: you catch a glimpse of a side to Rúben you do not see often enough when on holiday with him and his friends.

note: this video lives in my head rent free, even til this day so I decided to write a little something :)

The sky shifted from a deep golden hue to a velvety black canvas as you sat on the main deck with Rúben and his friends. Ropes and chains helped to secure the yacht at the marina whilst conversations and uncontrollable laughter filled the air. It was nice to have a well-deserved break from the successful but strenuous football season, so this catch-up was definitely needed. You and Rúben spent the first half of the holiday with his family, and the second half with his friends.    

Nervous does not even come close to describing how you felt about meeting Rúben’s family and friends for the first time. You were unsure about whether they would like you or if you would even get along, but those doubts were quickly cast aside the second you met them. Every one of them had made you feel so welcome and loved, you realised it was futile to have been so worried.    

Rúben was now standing beside the table shirtless whilst talking to his friends in the warm air of the night, a gentle breeze passing through. Conversations alternated between both Portuguese and English, some involving you and others not. You were not given the usual amount of attention from Rúben, but you didn’t mind that at all. It had been a while since he saw his friends, so naturally he would have lots to talk about. You simply sat there, watching him in pure admiration as he sent you the odd wink when he caught you staring, a small smile of enchantment forming on the corners of your mouth.   

As the night went on, the temperature cooled, taking a slightly chilly turn as the air teased your skin. You knew that Rúben would inevitably begin to feel the cold, so you decided to grab his grey hoodie and give it to him before he falls ill.    

Rúben stopped mid-conversation, turning his head in your direction when he saw you walking towards him. His face lit up at the sight of you before his gaze landed on the hoodie you were holding, a smile creeping onto his face at your small but thoughtful gesture.    

"You read my mind, thank you baby," Rúben took the hoodie from you, tilting his head to the side as he pecked your right cheek. You would think that after being together for so long, you would not redden at the smallest of things, but your cheeks still blushed every time without fail.  

"Oh, get a room!" All the boys shouted in unison like innocent little children.  

"What? It was just a peck; you guys are exaggerating!" You laughed, shaking your head as you turned away from Rúben to walk back to your seat.  

Rúben, on the other hand, had a better idea and was not going to let you go that easily, especially after the boys’ little protest. He dropped the hoodie on his chair before catching your arm to pull you towards his bare torso, your hands landing on his cold but muscular shoulders and his arms wrapped around your waist. You glanced into his mischief-filled eyes as he smirked playfully with his tongue pressed against his cheek. In that moment, you knew exactly what he was planning, and you were more than happy to comply.     

After a quick look in the direction of his friends, Rúben winked at them, followed by him closing the gap between his lips and yours. He did not hold back with this little display of affection, his tongue instantaneously sending shivers of desire coursing through you. With each kiss, you fall deeper and deeper in love with him, making it impossible for you to ever become bored of feeling his warm lips against yours. Your tongues danced as the boys hid their faces, not wanting to look as their complaints and whines filtered out as background noise.    

If you carried on like this, you and Rúben would actually need to get a room, so you pulled away.     

“Is it safe to look now?” one of his friends asked, peeking through his hands which were concealing his face.    

“Are we done?” you mumbled, trying to catch your breath as Rúben’s lips hovered over yours.   

“We’re done,” he smiled triumphantly at you, equally as breathless, before looking over at his friends, “you need to be careful what you wish for,” Rúben teased as his friends held their hands up in defeat, one of them muttering on about how he is going to be scarred for the rest of his life, making you giggle.    

Rúben picked up his hoodie from the chair, sliding into it but leaving the zip open. You sat back down on the couch next to Rúben’s friend, who gave you a disapproving look as he playfully nudged you with his shoulder.   

Music started playing from one of the phones, volume on full blast. It was a song you had heard Rúben play before, but not one you understood since it was in Portuguese. You grabbed the closest throw pillow and hugged it as you unlocked your phone to scroll through Instagram.  

The sound of Rúben singing along to caught your attention so your eyes flickered to him. What you did not expect was to see was Rúben also dancing along to the song with his friend. It was such a pure moment, a silly side to Rúben you did not see often enough. So, you closed Instagram and opened the camera app instead, tapping the video option to capture this memory. Throughout the recording, a radiant smile was embedded on your face as you watched Rúben so carefree and relaxed.

Eventually, the music quietened as the boys decided to call it a night, each heading to their own rooms to get some sleep as the fresh scent of ocean water continued to linger in the air. You rubbed your eyes as Rúben lay down beside you on the couch, an elated expression on his face.   

"You okay?" You shuffled closer to him, resting your head on his chest as you felt the warmth of his body heat against your face.   

"Mmhm," you hummed with content as Rúben tenderly ran his hand through your hair.   

“Sorry if I got a bit carried away with the boys and didn’t pay you much attention,” Rúben apologised unnecessarily. You lifted your head up to look at him, brows drawn together in confusion.   

“You've got nothing to apologise for,” you reassured, “after all, the holiday is for you to catchup with your friends.”   

“You’re not mad?” Now Rúben was the confused one, a soft sigh of relief escaping his lips. 

“Of course not! I had a really good time honestly,” you started, “but if you feel that bad, you can make it up to me... tonight,” you whispered suggestively, your hand travelling lower down his body, as you felt his muscles tense beneath your fingertips.   

“Nah, I don’t feel that bad,” Rúben teased affectionately as he scrunched up his face.   

“Ruben!” You playfully hit his chest, turning you head away as you refused to look at him.   

“I'm joking, I'm joking!” He threw his head back in laughter. It was so contagious you bit your bottom lip to try and stop yourself form bursting out laughing.

“I love you really,” he admitted as he lifted his hand under your chin, tenderly turning it to face him as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.   

“I love you too,” you smiled brightly, eyes fluttering shut as you snuggled into Rúben.   

The two of you lay there for a minute, watching the starry sky and enjoying each other's company. As you got up to walk to your shared bedroom, Rúben insisted he carry you bridal style, not talking no for an answer, as he put one of his arms around your back and the other under your legs, lifting you up so effortlessly. You wrapped your arms around his neck before nuzzling your face into the crook and planting a soft kiss there. 

[mountsmason]

Platonic Lies

summary: rúben wants to know if he and Y/N will ever be more then friends.

pairing: rúben dias x reader

genre: angst, fluff

a/n: idk why I'm posting this bc it isn't that good but oh well. any feedback is appreciated <33

➪ can be read as a prequel to monaco memories

Every one of the city players were well aware of how you and Rúben were most definitely more than friends. Your actions spoke for themselves; he would bring you coffee every morning, offer to drive you home after work, those glances that lingered slightly longer than they should and not to mention the endless flirting. Despite all that, you were in constant denial, simply dismissing anyone who would say you're not just friends as the tension in the room grew.

"Is Rúben okay?" you asked John, as you fidgeted with the camera in your hand, pretending to look busy.

"Yeah, why?" He took a sip of water from the bottle as you walked beside him towards the pitch for the afternoon training session with the rest of the team.

"I just haven't seen him in a while," you lied. In fact you had seen Rúben but whenever you tried to talk to him, he would make excuses and walk away. Normally, you two would be inseparable but something's changed. Instead of handing you coffee every morning with his bright smile, he would leave it on your desk. You started to wonder if you did something wrong. He was avoiding you and you needed to find out why.

"I can send him to your office if you want," John winked suggestively, a chuckle escaping his lips.

"Shut up," you laughed, pushing him out onto the pitch as you saw everyone return from their lunch break.

The rest of the afternoon dragged on as you wanted training to end quickly so you were able to clear the air with Rúben. The perfect time to do this was after training, in the changing room, as he was always the last one out. Once everyone else left, you anxiously walked in, wanting answers from him.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?" you took Rúben by surprise, as he was ready to leave with his bag all packed.

"Listen Rúben, I really need to-" you tried to explain before he interrupted you.

"John's waiting for me, I should go," he grabbed his bag and walked straight past you towards the door, refusing to stay.

"He can wait a few more minutes, can we please talk?" You held his hands in an attempt to stop him.

"Have I done something to hurt you? Tell me so I can fix it Rúben, I miss you," your voice barely a whisper.

"You've done nothing wrong but I think it would be better if you stayed away from me.” 

"But we used to be such close friends, why can't we go back to that?" you pleaded.

That struck a nerve.

“Friends, huh?” he laughed sarcastically, letting go of your hands as he clenched his jaw and shook his head, "we're not just friends and you know it." 

“I really like you Y/N, and I know the feeling is mutual but something’s holding you back and I wanna know what,” he whispered as his face inched nearer to yours, lips almost brushing. Taken by surprise, you stumbled backwards and you were against the wall.

“All I can think about is kissing you when I know I shouldn’t,” he confessed in a lowered voice, taking a step towards you so that you were trapped between his body and the wall. 

"Rúben, we can’t, I can’t-” you hesitated as you noticed Rúben’s gaze flicker to your lips.

“Why not?” he ran his thumb lightly across your bottom lip.

“Because we’re colleagues and if we start dating-” you rambled on knowing that it was a pathetic excuse, until you were interrupted by a pair of lips crashing onto yours.

After the brief initial shock, your eyed fluttered shut as you eased into the soft and gentle kiss. You gave up pretending that the feelings you had for Rúben were platonic, because they were far from it. He was right, you did really like him, from the moment you first saw him, if you're finally being honest now. You were just overthinking and overcomplicating things—it's what you do best.

Rúben’s hands travelled down to your waist, gently pressing his body against yours. The hem of your shirt lifted slightly and he rested his hands on the bare skin of your waist. 

“Do you want me to stop?” he breathed, resting his forehead against yours.

Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss.

“I’ll take that as a no,” he murmurs into your mouth as you both smile into the kiss before you hear a familiar voice.

"Rúben, mate, how long are you—woah, I didn't mean to inter—," he paused for a second, before shouting, "KYLE COME AND SEE THIS."

Embarrassed that you had been caught, you hid your face in the crook of Rúben's neck, a soft laugh escaping the two of you.

“Need to take a picture of this moment, I was starting to think you two would never happen,” John mumbled as he unlocked his phone and took a quick photo.

[hotforruben]

Untitled Rúben smut teaser

He smiled at you, came closer and whispered, “remember that fantasy you mentioned before I went away”, he whispered.

“What fantasy?” you replied already forgotten what you’ve told him.

“About me fucking you against my living room windows”, he smiled at you.

[tommyspeakycap]

Footie Fics :)

prompts lists

meeting prompts

prompt list

cute intimate prompts

(requests are not exclusive to these lists, send in anything you like and I’ll give it a shot!)

also want to just put it out there that I’ll never accept a request involving players real life families / stuff like that. they’ll never be included in the fics and everything here is completely imaginative and fictional with no relation or link to the players personally. that said, request away! :)

how i headcanon member of the england nt when they’re travelling - a stupid thing i made once

insta files masterlist

Jack Grealish

linked fics / stories

Friends for now

Not mates

Stay

Blurbs/prompts/oneshots

this is happiness

illicit affairs

fell for you

Braids

Cheeky

Mama’s Boys

Villa boy

comfort

changed man

snow days and haribo rings

right here with me

accents

Kieran Tierney

Dating would include

nsfw alphabet

christmas market

this is what dreams are made of

Jordan Henderson

linked fics / series

Rose Garden

Painted Roses

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fluff alphabet

John Stones

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always yours

part two

john x single mum reader

masterlist

blurbs/prompts/oneshots

perfect

black tie turbulence

my hero

say it back

nsfw alphabet

because i’m in love with you

holiday hatred (smut)

no matter what // (part 2)

traffic lights

work welcome

everybody knows

changing it up

longer than forever lasts

car problems

wife

christmas jumper

dad duty

flatmate

Ben Chilwell

fics/multi-parts

please don’t say you love me (1)

cause i might not say it back (2)

doesn’t mean my heart’s not skipping (3)

when you look at me like that (4)

single dad!ben x reader

helping hand

a team

heaven

blurbs/prompts/oneshots

home

reunions and surprises

welcome to the family

good luck charm

rings

want it again (part two)

i believe

Ben White

blurbs/prompts/oneshots

ease

dating would include

holiday heartbreak

Andy Robertson

fics/multi part pieces

ruined it // part two

resentment // part two

baby girl

a fathers woe

not just the physio

feeling some kind of way

nsfw alphabet

uprooted plans

with a bang

best kept secret

Marcus Rashford

blurbs/oneshots/prompts

meet the family

the one

count on me (series)

part one

part two

Jorginho

blurbs/oneshots/prompts

brothers

seil il mio amore piu grande

Mason Mount

blurbs/oneshots/prompts

3am confessions

biggest mistake

quite miss home

John McGinn

blurbs/oneshots/prompts

double win

you got me

celebration

Rúben Dias

next to you

beautiful

not ready

daddy's home

blue masterlist

insta files

one

two

blurbs

songwriter girlfriend blurb

ring blurb

looking out for you blurb

[emwritesfootball]

Exploration | John Stones and Rúben Dias

Warnings: oral sex (male giving and male receiving / male giving and female receiving), mention of drinking, praising, male/male love

A/N: based off of this post from @bluemoonstonesy so it’s basically just John and Rúben going at it x

- - -

The pub was loud and crowded, moreso since the massive City win over United in that evening’s Derby. John Stones and Rúben Dias sat quietly in the corner, happy to not be bothered at the place they frequented. Of course, they’d had to sign a few autographs for newcomers who recognized them, but most of the patrons knew to leave them be.

“Dias! Nice goal tonight!” A drunken patron called out, raising a pint in the footballer’s direction. “Nice assist, Stones!”

Rúben and John thanked him, cheersing in his direction. “We make a great team,” Rúben murmured, draining his beer.

“That we do,” John agreed, nodding.

“John Stones is it really you?!”

“Fuck!” John hissed under his breath, him and Rúben sharing an annoyed look. They were garnering attention again, this time from the drunks. John knew from experience that it was bound to get crazy now that they’d been spotted by people who weren’t familiar with the etiquette of approaching footballers outside of a stadium.

“Can I have an autograph?” The drunken girl asked, flashing him and Rúben a smile that worried the both of them.

“What do you have for us to sign?” Rúben asked and John let out a groan when she flipped up her top to reveal a lacy bra.

“One tit for each of you,” she replied, winking in Rúben’s direction. It was common knowledge that John was taken but Rúben was still single and received a majority of flirtatious comments whenever he and John went out together.

Rúben eagerly put the permanent marker to her boob, passing it off to John who looked unamused as he signed the other. She stumbled away but not before telling Rúben to ‘call me...anytime’ which made him and John laugh because she hadn’t even given them her name.

John’s phone buzzed with an incoming text from you. “What do you say we go back to my place? Far less crowded and we can celebrate the win in peace.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

John returned your text, letting you know he was on his way home. He nodded to the bartender who knew to close out their tabs and they were out the door five minutes later.

***

“Oh!” You gasped, your gaze flickering between your boyfriend and Rúben when you answered the door. “I was only expecting John.”

“My bad,” John said, ducking his head bashfully. “I specified ‘we’ in my text.”

You gave him a smile, shrugging. “I just figured you were talking about yourself and all your personalities.” Rúben laughed, and you turned your attention to him. “Hey, Rúben.”

“Hi.”

You opened the door a bit wider to let the two of them in, wandering over to the kitchen to grab a few more beers, handing one to your boyfriend and another to Rúben. You could feel Rúben’s eyes on you, but you didn’t mind - there was a running joke between you and John over who Rúben loved more. You were wearing John’s kit; when you’d gotten his text saying he was on his way home, you had planned to celebrate the win by fucking him in his jersey, but your plans changed when you opened the door to find Rúben with him.

“I’m sorry, was I interrupting something?” Rúben asked, gesturing to the kit you were wearing and the lacy panties that peeked out every so often.

You waved a dismissive hand. “Not at all! I was just going to surprise John with a little victory sex, but I’m always happy to see you.”

“Besides, if we get really horny, I’ll just kick you out,” John joked.

“Or he could stay.” The innuendo left your mouth before you could censor yourself. Instead of keeping quiet, though, you continued, “I’m sure Rúben likes to watch.”

Rúben swallowed hard, his gaze vacillating between you and John. “I, uh...yeah.”

Your smirk grew. “What do you think, John? Should we let Rúben watch?”

“I think we should let Rúben do whatever he wants,” was John’s response.

You walked over to Rúben who was sharing a loveseat with your boyfriend. John let out a possessive growl as you leaned down to kiss his teammate, pulling back right before Rúben tried to deepen the kiss. You shifted over to straddle John, giving him a kiss that left him wanting more before letting him go with a groan. You kissed your way down John’s neck, sucking a mark into his skin while keeping your eyes on Rúben.

Rúben’s breathing changed, his breath coming in pants as he watched you kiss your boyfriend. You could see him shift in his seat, the bulge in his joggers growing. “Johnny,” you cooed, running your hand down his chest, “I think we should let Rúben join in.”

John nodded, his eyes glassy with lust. You watched as he leaned over and cupped Rúben’s cheek without hesitation, the two men looking at each other for a moment before John leaned in and kissed Rúben.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” you whimpered, rutting your pussy on John’s crotch. He shifted, causing you to tumble off his lap and onto the ground. You instinctively spread your legs, your eyes glued to John and Rúben as their kisses turned heated.

Rúben’s fingers tangled in John’s hair, tugging on the strands. Your boyfriend moaned into Rúben’s mouth and you couldn’t resist pushing your panties to the side and sliding your fingers between your already-slick folds.

John ran a hand down Rúben’s chest, stopping to cup his bulge. Rúben bucked his hips, moaning as John’s hand dipped beneath the waistband of his joggers. “Let me make you feel good,” John rasped, pausing as Rúben wriggled out of his joggers so that John was able to free his teammate’s dick.

You knew how good John was with his mouth - after all, he’d used it on you countless times to give you multiple orgasms. The sight of your boyfriend getting down on his knees for someone other than you would’ve made you jealous, but if you were to let John go down on anyone else it would’ve been Rúben.

Rúben shivered as John cupped his balls, John running his tongue over the shaft of Rúben’s hard cock and swirling around the tip. Rúben let out a groan as John made a point to tease, kissing Rúben’s inner thighs and V line before returning to the now-leaking head.

“How does he taste?” You asked, whimpering as you finally slid a finger inside your pussy.

John’s response was to gag on Rúben’s length, deepthroating the Portuguese footballer.

Rúben’s voice was strangled as he beckoned you over. “Come here, Amada. Let me taste you.” Sweetheart.

You pulled your fingers out of your dripping cunt, your walls clenching around nothing at the sudden loss. Rúben shifted so you could straddle his face while John sucked his dick.

It wasn’t often that you forgot the four-year age gap between you and Rúben, but the 24-year-old tongued your pussy with expertise you hadn’t expected for someone four years your junior. Each moan from Rúben’s lips went straight to your clit and you couldn’t help bucking your hips over his mouth as John elicited the reaction that caused you to cum quickly.

You got off of Rúben’s face, glancing over at John who was absorbed in his teammate’s dick. John worked Rúben’s dick like a lolly, spit and pre-cum coating the head and shaft as your boyfriend sucked off his teammate like he was rewarding him for that goal tonight. “Fuck, Johnny, you look so fucking sexy,” you praised, making sure you had the perfect view of both John and Rúben.

Rúben let out a low whine, his fingers fisting in John’s hair to hold your boyfriend in place as Rúben came down John’s throat.

Both men were breathing heavily as John pulled himself off Rúben’s cock, looking up at his teammate. Rúben leaned down, his tongue swirling with John’s as he tasted himself on John’s lips while John kissed your juices off Rúben’s mouth.

Rúben’s fingers reached for the hem of John’s shirt, pulling it off and baring your boyfriend’s tattooed chest to his teammate. “So sexy,” he murmured in Portuguese, running his hand down John’s tattoos.

“Your turn,” John grinned, taking off Rúben’s shirt.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me in the changing room,” Rúben teased as John explored his chest. “You’ve wanted to touch me for a while, haven’t you?”

“Mmhmm,” John hummed, nodding. “Just because you’re my mate doesn’t mean I haven’t had certain thoughts about you.”

“It’s true,” you replied when Rúben looked at you in question. “Have you looked in a mirror lately, Dias? You’re sexy as fuck.”

Rúben blushed at your words, and John pressed kisses to his sternum to turn Rúben’s attention back to John. Rúben’s hands explored John’s body, too, the two men exchanging kisses and words as they touched each other. You watched as John laid back and let Rúben take his pants off, Rúben’s fingers tracing over the tattoos on John’s thigh.

You touched yourself as you watched the two of them explore their bodies. You’d never seen John like this with another man and your mind couldn’t help wandering, imagining what it would look like to see John taking Rúben’s dick - or vice versa.

The two of them put on a show just for you, cognizant of the fact that you were watching them. Rúben stroked John’s dick, teasing your boyfriend with a handjob that almost rivaled your own. You came when John did, your second orgasm just as powerful as the first one Rúben had given you.

“Fuck, that was so hot,” you gasped, trying to catch your breath. Rúben cleaned up John’s cum with his tongue as you sucked your own fingers clean.

“Don’t worry, love - next time we’ll let you join in,” John promised, getting up and giving you a kiss.

“You don’t have to do that,” you replied, smirking. “I’m happy to just watch the two of you go at it, but I think we need to make this a regular occurrence.”

Two weeks later…

There was a knock at your door after the latest City home match and you opened it, grinning at Rúben. “John’s already here and ready for you,” you murmured, taking his hand and leading him to the bedroom.

[footballxixstars]

Rúben Dias

Rúben Dias born on the 14th of May 1997. He plays for Manchester City and Portugal National Team.

———

Blurbs

———

OneShots

Your Child is Important ~ Your child wants to play a game with Ruben who keeps blowing them off saying he’s busy. You put some sense into him.

———

Smuts

———

MASTERLIST

[oh-saints]

fight

rúben dias x you

part of the dad!rúben collection

word count: 1.6k

tw: endometriosis, health issues while pregnant, intrusive paparazis, implied violence

note: hello i'm back from the dead bcs i've absolutely GONE FERAL AT THE THOUGHT OF THIS ashsjklkkjkl but as usual, i happen to write things at dawn so this is certainly not proof-read yet.

similar to any other parents, the moment you and rúben found out you're pregnant sent you both to the moon. for you, it was definitely topping your list of "best moment of my life" by far. and for rúben, it was up there somewhere with the feeling of winning the premier league and the feeling when you walked down the aisle, looking regal in white only for him.

but probably more meaningful for you and rúben because in all honesty, you've been trying to have a baby for almost 2 years now.

your earlier issue with endometriosis didn't allow you to naturally conceive as easy as other wives and girlfriends of rúben's teammates, or as any other healthy women in general. you were actually at the brink of giving up and were actively discussing adoption with your husband, who is nothing more than supportive at the decision, bless him.

rúben being himself, though, had a way of predicting the future. that's your simplified explanation but in professional jargons, one of the reason pep bought him from benefica; his ability to read the game.

your husband suggested for another honeymoon, during the time he was injured, before he'd get swamped with matches again and you'd be busy with the whole adoption procedure. it was a weekend gateway to st barths, a place you both have never been, but the beauty took your breath away. but even more for rúben because goddamn, that man could speak words without actually using words. he's more expressive when his body takes control of the whole speaking thing, and you've never felt so loved and grateful to have found the meaning of love in rúben dias.

and to be loved by him, surely didn't lie. the 2 lines of the test kit stared back at you like they were meant to be taken seriously, like it was supposed to tell you to get a grip of your life instead of gaping so wide at it your mouth could've sucked it in. rúben had to knock on the door to make sure you were alright and didn't slip on anything because you tend to be clumsy—he’d made a habit to check up on you whenever you’re in a bathroom for more than 15 minutes because of your reckless nature.

after endless failed test, you truthfully didn’t know what to do. this kind of result never came to you. so you just opened the door, in hope he’d know what to do—he always does, usually. only to be met by your husband’s concerned face because you didn’t slip on anything but went back outside with an aghast face.

“what’s wrong, coração?”

you handed him the test kit wordlessly, with shaky hands at it.

rúben looked down to see what it was because he’d never actually seen the test kit. you’d always hide in a bathroom and come out shaking your head, and you never let him buy them on his own. why would you—

“what—”

rúben looked up to you and you were already brimming in tears, a silent confirmation he needed. “we’re going to the doctor. now.”

at first, he did it because he wanted to confirm it himself, that the test kit wasn’t lying. but on the second thought, should you be truly pregnant, the purpose of the trip to the hospital was to make sure your pregnancy needs are met and you’ll have a safe and sound journey until you bring the product of rúben’s love for you to the world.

but of course, life being life didn’t give you everything smoothly as expected.

if you want it, earn it kind of life had been rúben’s way of life so when the doctor told you both that you’ll face some dangers throughout the 9-month journey, rúben gained another purpose in life outside football. to flash a fuck you to world, for they can’t let you and rúben have a peaceful moment in life.

rúben made sure to get home early so he’d cook you dinner during your bedrest period on the first trimester, shocking everyone in the etihad perimeter because he always is the first one to come and the last one to leave. he arranges catering for your lunch on top of it all so you don’t have to cook when he’s not home. he flies your mum and his to be there with you on the days he has a match to go to. he keeps a book to track all your craving and blood pressure, as well as a sketchbook for the baby journey “so we can take a look at it again when they’re grown up.”

you and rúben agreed not to let anyone know beside your immediate family the moment you stepped out of the fragile period, as a precaution, having the taste of public eyes first hand. the moment you announce it to the world, your safe space would and should be compromised.

thus, your baggy apparels whenever you come to rúben’s home matches. it wasn’t often, only once a month or only when the big matches are around the corner. the fanbases and fan accounts still talk about your fashion, with coats and cute jackets and everything, and thankfully none of them has noticed your changing preference from high-waist jeans and wool skirts.

but rúben scores a fantastic header and you see no reason not to jump from your seat. you know he’s been working so hard on set pieces and his headers, only now does it pay off. ivan has to remind you to sit down and not overdo yourself because “rúben will kill me if anything happens to you.”

however, the camera catches your celebration and in less than 5 minutes, your phone rings like the world’s ending. well in a way, it is.

everyone called netizens immediately shoots out their fire, on the speculation you might be pregnant. some congratulate you already, some believe your pregnancy is the reason rúben’s scoring and his gigantic performances as of late, some criticizes you, some questions your decision to come to the match like you’re not carrying rúben’s world. your head aches not long after scrolling down the internet that ivan had to submit rúben upstairs to your box instead of you coming down to the tunnel like usual.

your husband crouches in front of you as soon as he sees your deflated figure, eyes closed in resignation. that’s when he knows the intensity level has reached emergency status because he knows you well and he knows you’re strong enough for both of you to make it through a catastrophe—it’s the reason he’s adamant to marry you anyway—so the word fucking hell escaped his mouth before he even realised it himself.

they didn’t say anything as he shared you his tightest hug, the kind you love the most after a tiring day at work. had she said one word about killing those people behind the screen, he would’ve done so in a heartbeat. only when you pull away, indicating you’re now good to go home, does rúben let go of you and the issue at hand.

he tells you to head to the car first because he needs to pick up his bag from the locker room. but that decision would hunt him down for life, as he watched you being swarmed and surrounded by reporters on the parking lot, camera shoved up on your face and flashes and clicks blinded your vision that you steps on your own feet and fall down.

the idiots don’t stop harassing her, though.

rúben’s feet had never run faster than that moment. pep might be calling him a deceit for never being able to break sprint records. and thank god he was a footballer, a centre back at that, so pushing and shoving people out of his way is within his job description.

rúben lifts his wife from the ground, and the shattering sound of his heart don’t escape him as he notices you’re in the position to protect their child even when you’re in danger herself from the ambush. he brings this to you, he brings this to you and his child, and rage takes over at the thought they both shouldn’t have suffered this side of rúben’s professional life.

if these brainless fuckers are suing him for collateral damages on the cameras he throw to the asphalt, rúben’s so ready to hire a hitman on each and every head count.

rúben doesn’t see anything else than red and only when he’s done strapping the seatbelt on you, you bring him back to life like natasha romanov brings back hulk to serenity. you hold him by his face, staring him down like he’s not capable of bloodbath until his breaths return to normalcy.

“enough, my love.”

and all the sudden, there was the calm, collected rúben you married 3 years ago. the one who loves you when you brush the strands escaping his perfectly styled hair after the match, so you do it and he rests his head on your palm when you’re done tucking the strands back in and hands now tracing his unshaved stubbles.

even when you’d just been tackled down, you’re the one who saves him. he’s not wrong at all about you being the stronger one for the 3 of you, strong enough for the family you both are building. and with the thought you have to still play death with god later during labour, he can’t help but fall in love with you all over again.

“te amo, meu amor,” he brings his head closer to yours to feel his world on his hands. “always and forever.”

[oh-saints]

airport

rúben planned the trip to end up with sliding the 4-carat diamond ring he hid in his back pocket onto his girlfriend’s finger. spoiler: they broke up instead. and now the footballer was stuck in the airport until the bad weather cleared off. lovely, isn’t it?

rúben dias x female!OC

word count: 5.6k

note: happy new year to everyone but especially my boyfriend who’d once asked if i could make something out of our first meeting (i did meet him on a plane) so here it is! [thanks for breaking my writer’s block & enjoy ruben as he’s the only one you’d let me cheat on you with.] as usual, i happen to always write around dawn so ofc this is not beta-read but feedbacks are always welcome!

sorry bro, the ENTIRE city’s closed until the sandstorm goes away.

rúben groaned as the notification bar showed his manager’s newest message. things went spiralling down the drain so fast in the last 24 hours, his head couldn’t wrap up which one’s reality and which one’s not. he just wanted to go back home as soon as possible and throw himself to work—the only reality he knows very much real and sane—the very next day.

but they got to have a fucking massive sandstorm on the day he was returning to manchester.

rúben’s mood went from very bad to super sour in a split second.

he wouldn’t be like this, though, if his girlfriend of 2 years said yes to him last night, when he popped the million-dollar question every woman would love to hear from him, on the very place they met the first time. it didn’t make sense to him at all as to why she flat-out said no to him and scurried off like she’d caught fire on her ass when 2 days before flying out to their beautiful destination, they’d been seriously—and positively at that—talking about the possibility of marriage.

was it too fast? nothing was too fast, at least for rúben’s standard. if she was keen on spending the rest of her life with her, as she proclaimed to be, they could discuss more possibilities of what happens in their household as they go. no?

rúben had, in fact, contacted her to come back to the spacious villa he’d rented over the weekend so they could sit down and run over this like a pair of adults. after all, it always takes 2 to tango in a relationship—whatever relationship it is. rúben was willing to apologise first for acting rash, if it was the case, and made amends to what he did but instead, he found out she blocked him on every communication channel they used 15 minutes after he sent his first train of messages post-refusal.

maybe she wasn’t ready to talk it out like a mature adult solving problems. maybe she wasn’t the adult he was expecting her to be. maybe she wasn’t an adult at all.

his head was heavy and throbbing, his heart was pounding irregularly, his breathing was shallow. he wanted to scream out whatever he was feeling inside, in hope it could lessen the inexplicable emotion and the bitter taste left in his mouth.

the sound of a crying baby from afar nearly split his skull to pieces like he was being thrown a nuclear bomb.

he should’ve listened to what his brother said this morning; to not delay his departure after such a disastrous ending to yesterday’s evening. he should’ve taken the offer of flying private his brother could easily pull off with a call, if only the idea of being confined inside the small plane alone appealed to him.

he had the luxury, why bother flying couch?

it was the very question rúben had been dying to ask himself. was the loud noise of the crowd the one he looked for to drown in all the voices in his head, the very one kept asking and blaming himself of the outcome his relationship didn’t work well? was the uncomfortable plane seat the one he was searching for to ease off the niggling ache of his heart?

wait, since when was rúben gato dias a sappy boyfriend?

he knew he wasn’t heart-broken—it would’ve hurt him even more than what he was feeling—so he knew he’d survive this. give him time to work tirelessly and it would be the same as when a smoker puffed his nicotine intake out of his lungs. quick and easy to forget. but until this damn sandstorm walked away from the surface of the earth, would there be anything to distract him? anything to make his day at least better by a miniscule?

“sorry, is this seat taken?”

rúben looked up at the feminine voice, the difference to other hushed voices in the hustle-bustles of the airport was striking. a good surprise, as he could direct focus on his brain to be towards this lady instead of pondering endless what-ifs in his head, but a surprise nonetheless.

rúben wondered how she could ask such inquiry without a hint of questioning tone; she was all smiles, borderline confident the seat across him was vacant, but it didn’t come off as annoying. she was friendly, for the lack of words, and rúben sensed she’d only want to have a seat, as the café they were in was packed with people affected by the sandstorm.

so rúben shook his head to answer her question before unlocking his phone to let his family know he wouldn’t be coming back as scheduled. but as he was placing his fingers over the keyboard on his phone, he sensed someone was watching him, it wasn’t intently but it was enough for rúben to not ignore it.

the woman was still standing in her place, her hand remained on the skeleton of the chair. the smile faltered a little, however. “do you mind, though, if i sit here?”

rúben casted a glance up to meet her eyes once more, half confused as to why she didn’t sit on the chair in front of him right away—unlike what he expected her to be—another half was confused about her question in general. rúben couldn’t recall his memory of a time someone bothered to ask such thing to him, or any other person, regarding an unoccupied chair.

and weirdly enough, the woman had asked the question with an underlying concern behind her tone. as if it truly mattered to her about what he thought; that if he wasn’t comfortable enough sharing the space with her, she’d gladly move somewhere else rather than having her presence rubbed him off the wrong way.

was him sulking that palpable to everyone else in the room?

“no, please,” rúben managed to give her a tiny, pressed smile—the best he could muster with the energy he had left—and gestured his hand to show he didn’t mind her, in hope she’d feel more comfortable around him. after all, they might be spending the next several hours face to face. “go ahead.”

the smile went up a couple of watts again, and her relief unknowingly relieved something inside rúben too. “thanks.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

rúben thought he would be spending his spare time bored as hell but boy, did the mother earth prove him wrong.

they didn’t share any words after their last interaction; rúben busied himself with his phone, the woman straight away pulled out her laptop and a notebook. the silent went on for at least 30 minutes before he noticed the woman going mildly berserk with whatever she was writing on the white paper from the corner of his eyes. hands furious, brows knitted together, eyes blazing crazy let-me-prove-you-wrong determination, lips bitten down white.

suddenly she went deflated like a swimming tube losing pressure, sighing so hard it blew the poor paper over. eyes closed in resignation, lips pouted deeply, valour escaped her entire being. she then stared at the numbers she scribbled down for a full minute, like it’d mean something to the eyes now devoid of everything, before starting to start afresh on another page of white.

scratched couple of number, jotted something else. a dozen times with a dozen of different facial expressions before she finally surrendered to whatever it was. secretly, rúben enjoyed the mini show the woman opposite him had been presenting. it reminded him of a pantomime show at a circus—entertainment of various expressions without words—but in a good way. but at that point, he was more concerned she was going to join another baby who was wailing from another side of the café.

so he decided to buy her one of the cake on display, in hope it could cheer her up, as well as apologising for the hostility he displayed the first time the fate introduced them to each other. maybe as a gratitude on the side too, rúben realised as he went on, that she was simply existing. in the rúben’s world, where everyone and everything almost felt intrusive and overwhelming at the same time all the time as they disregarded his privacy, people rarely ever did something without a hidden agenda.

maybe it was a huge leap of faith on itself but what did he get to lose now when it felt like it had been that way since last evening?

the moment rúben slid the small white plate towards her direction, those expressive eyes flashed him unspoken confusion. he couldn’t help but wonder what else and how far those orbs could convey words without words.

“you look like you need it,” rúben regained his place in front of her once more. “i hope you’re not allergic to chocolate.”

the gratitude gleamed from the same eyes—and she made sure he looked at it—threw him off guard, to be honest. he was expecting her to say something along the lines he said to her, not puss-in-boots eyes. “thank you soooooo much! you don’t know how much this means to me,” she picked up the utensils in a rush, eyes devouring the praline cake already. “i was actually thinking of buying you a coffee or something because i can be handful when i’m working.”

she was afraid she’d disturb his peace, on top of being scared she’d take up too much of his space earlier, when she barely made noise? but before he could voice out his curiosity, she handed him the fork, already scooped up with a cut piece of the chocolate dessert.

“where i grow up, we always hand the first cut to the person we’re thankful of,” she answered the question underneath the look he threw her. it amazed him that it didn’t take her five seconds to figure them out. “otherwise it’s considered rude.”

her way of thinking intrigued rúben immensely immediately, so he decided to ride off the high wave. “i hate to break it to you but my job requires me to clean healthy until i retire.”

“what the hell…” the face she pulled on resembled a famous are-you-kidding meme he usually found on his social media timeline and he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “i hope they compensate you well.”

rúben was about to throw a banter into equation but she stepped her foot on the throttle before he could. “what do you do for a living, if you don’t mind me asking? because i can’t think of a job that has strict and painful criteria like that.”

the footballer stared her down, a bit intensely this time in hope he could break off her character, should she turn out to be a deceit. this was one of the classic trick in the book; fake it till you make it. shockingly, she didn’t waver under his pressure and continued looking at him expectantly, like a student waiting for his professor to answer their question.

“i’m an athlete.”

it took her 10 seconds to digest he wasn’t kidding, that sports industry actually was that rigorous. she went white in aghast. “no way.”

rúben was stunned that she was stunned at his admission. “i don’t look like one, huh?”

“i was expecting you to say you’re a model or something.”

this time, the footballer couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped his mouth. “is it too late to say that i model too sometimes?”

“you’re joking.”

the mirth and amusement stayed behind in rúben’s eyes as he shook his head one more time to answer her doubt. because heck, this woman deserved more than just a slice of praline cake for grazing her refreshing existence in rúben’s world.

“i’m so googling you,” the woman pulled her laptop closer, fallen papers be damned. “when you’re an athlete but you have modelling gigs already, you must be a hotshot.”

“eh, hotshot would be an overstatement.”

the woman shot him an incredulous look. “that’s exactly what a damn good athlete would say when praised. but drop your name, mister, so we can test out if it’s over or understatement.”

“the name’s rúben dias but at this point, i’m just flattered you consider me a hotshot,” and rúben wasn’t lying. he knows when a woman says one’s hotshot. “i can now rest in peace.”

“i can’t be the first one to call you—holy fuck,” her eyes enlarged so wide he was afraid it might pop out soon and dropped down to the gaping mouth. “you play for manchester city?”

she seethed an emotion he couldn’t recongise as she spelled out the name of the club he was now representing, and rúben detested the feeling already. one when he couldn’t pinpoint what she was feeling or thinking from what her facial features were displaying. “uh, i hope you’re not a manchester united fan.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

praise the gods above, she wasn’t.

unfortunately, her ex-boyfriend was. it was how she’d come to know the world of football, including but not limited to his current club. she stopped watching when she got accepted for her job; the very reason she was flying out today of all days.

rúben learnt her name was adriana and she was a petroleum engineer, which explained a lot to her condition. the reason she broke up with her ex was due to the long distance and lack of communication. (in her defence, she couldn’t work on it because how am i supposed to search for another source of signal when i’m like one hour away from the nearest land?) the lack of signal resulted any form of entertainment to get limited, thus her not being able to watch football despite growing fond of it as the years went by. the last time she watched anything football-related was before the season 2019/2020 started off, and it showed why she wasn’t able to recognise his face.

but the work she was currently doing wasn’t something rúben regretted out of her job, unlike her ex, because he truthfully couldn’t imagine the boredom he’d have to go through if she wasn’t stuck with him in this sandstorm. if it wasn’t because of a work emergency that came up 2 days prior, he wouldn’t have discovered the world of engineering. she was forthcoming enough when he asked the details in what she does on daily basis, even went as far as showing the source of her mental breakdown earlier—which coincidentally confirmed his guess and he couldn’t contain the butterflies in his stomach for nailing the bull’s eye.

despite coming from 2 different worlds, literally and figuratively, rúben thoroughly enjoyed the endless conversations that flowed between them. it went from their jobs, to football in general, to f1 talks, to music, movies. she was genuinely curious to the healthy eating he’d been doing for years, he was equally interested about the things she did to pass time when staying on the off-shore facility or about the things she had to do to survive when a hurricane or some sorts came crashing down her unusual accommodation. she intended to download all his netflix recommendation before all earthly-pleasures were rid off, he aimed to make a spotify playlist to contend her liked songs.

when they found out the sandstorm would still be ongoing by the time dinner fell upon, they unanimously agreed to move out of the café to somewhere else where they served proper food. she needed her caffeine fix to fight the jet lag and he needed his protein fix before his trainer blew off his ears.

(lies. he did it because he wanted to take her far away from the eagle eyes that was starting to show their true form the past hour, complete with their DSLR cameras pointing at them. and away because he wanted to listen to her intently, for she could never bore her, and he’d hate it if anyone else got to eavesdrop how much of a wonderful conversationalist she was.)

she laughed when their chosen food served—she was only having swedish meatball and he was adamant on having chicken breast for his stroganoff, on top of ordering smoked salmon salad—because only then did adriana realise each of them lived off very different lives.

“i eat because i want to, whereas you…” adriana shook her head in disbelief. rúben contemplated for so long over the menu the restaurant provided because he was looking for ones that fit his diet and, in the end, adriana hadn’t seen so many greens as rúben’s plate. “i really hope it’s all worth it.”

“it is.”

with the way rúben looked at her when he said it, adriana could only pray for her life before rúben took all of her breaths away.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

“… announcement for passengers of Emirates Airlines on flight number 431B to Tokyo, Japan.”

adriana’s eyes perked up at the airport announcement, recognising it was designated for the passengers belonging to the same aircraft as her. a small panic rushed over her bloodstream, as it now dawned her how much time had passed swiftly, afraid that she wouldn’t catch her flight in time.

although she didn’t miss a bigger, more painful pinch on her heart that she had to end whatever this is she was having with rúben. she didn’t want this to be a one-time occurrence because it had been a while since the last time she was genuinely interested in an opposite sex—she’d been bereft of a figure with face she could tolerate and brain that could keep up with her to be called her boyfriend for years now—but she did realise that with them living two different lives in two different countries with thousands of miles and oceans apart, it would only be a futile attempt to ask him to try and work this out.

“that’s your flight, isn’t it?”

adriana’s eyes zeroed back on the very person that had filled her layover hours with so many anecdotes and stories from his footballing days that she felt as if she lived through those moments with him too. rúben was sporting back the tiny, pressed smile she found the first time she interacted with him hours ago but managed to vanish as they spent more time together. she hated it immediately. she missed rúben laughing and smiling so freely like he didn’t care if they got eternally stuck in this airport.

“yeah, that’s me,” adriana couldn’t help but give him an apologetic smile. she was apologetic for living 10 hours away from where he lives, for not being able to spend longer time with him; for this particular situation they couldn’t control, in general. “unfortunately.”

rúben muttered, “unfortunately, indeed,” under his breath and another pang in the chest didn’t escape adriana.

adriana couldn’t help herself; her hand reached his before she knew it herself, as if it was her second nature. “don’t be that sad, rúben,”

one moment he was pitying himself for meeting such a wonderful woman in the wrong circumstances, one moment his heart was galloping so hard at the way her tongue rolled his name perfectly. like she had known how to for so long, like she owned it.

maybe she had, effortlessly so.

“it means your flight’s coming up. you can go home, too.”

adriana didn’t know that for rúben, his now-burned-to-ashes home had now shifted into the very one rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb softly but firmly with enough pressure, just the way he liked it. he couldn’t help but wonder how her flimsy of a hand would look prettily with the ring that sat disturbingly at the bottom of his backpack.

the silent revelation stopped rúben’s heart for a second.

he must be going crazy. or desperate. or worse, both.

maybe he was indeed acting rashly to his ex-girlfriend, for jumping into conclusion she was ready for the lifetime institution of marriage when they had only spoken of it days before. he really should slow down this time around. he blew off one chance, he didn’t want second time—especially with a woman that felt so much like someone who would drape a blanket over him after a disappointing match, be it ucl final against real madrid or not, despite only meeting her hours ago.

“you know that if i could follow you, i would, right?” adriana’s heart skipped a beat, both at his submission and at his hand enveloping hers back. every inch, every angle, every curve of their hands fell together, perfectly fitting against one another, and it scared her because how could it be when their hand sizes were kilometres different? “i mean, you still owe me so many stories of your co-workers jumping off the rig for fun.”

“you can always visit me anytime for that.”

“or you can always visit me anytime for that,” rúben threw her a mischief smile, just to rile her up—and she laughed at him, pulling her hand back so she could tidy up her things scattered across the table—but deep down, he was serious. he already planned in mind to send her jet as soon as she was back on shore. “i miss you already.”

and he wasn’t lying. he hated the cold that swept over the palm of his hand as soon as her hands went back to the respectful owner.

“please don’t,” adriana chuckled at his words, hands slipping her macbook to its leather sleeve. “i will only annoy you if i’m around you 24/7.”

“better than spending the rest of my flight without a spectacular companion.”

“i’m sure there are tons of people dying for your attention now,” adrianna’s eyes signaled people behind them that took liberty to take pictures of him as if he was another of the world’s 7 wonders. he was amazed that she kept her cool the entire time, knowing the fans could be such a disturbance. “you can always pick one of the bunch.”

“but none of them is you.”

rúben harbored the tiniest satisfaction when her entire body went rigid at his words before the eyes he was starting to love slowly focused back on him. fuck speed dating, adriana was about to leave in less than an hour and he didn’t know how long it’d take him to see her again.

adriana had always appreciated when people went straightforward with her—her mother said it was the effect of hanging out with too many boys and men alike in the rig—but hearing rúben’s each and every direct take on her was a whole new level of game. she liked it, but she really needed to step up her arsenal and fast at that.

rúben’s one hell of a handsome face didn’t help to her advantage, though. she was glad she’d be boarding a plane soon because if she stayed for an hour longer, her mind would probably go astray every time she thought of a good comeback. god damn, those brown eyes that reminded her of dipping into a chocolate fondue and the tiny smirk only he could pull off and those stubbles she was itching to run her hands through and the unique accent that tangled british and portugese—they’d be the death of her.

“let me walk you to your gate.”

adriana was thankful rúben spared her the pain of giving him a reply to something she wasn't sure there was a comeback statement to that. “that’d be lovely.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

rúben’s father always said the right woman would prove herself worthy of him the same way a man would prover himself worthy of her. he used to believe it when he was a kid but as he grew up, now entering the stardom especially, he concluded that what his father said was only applicable to the lives of ordinary men. it had always been him proving her worthy instead of the woman doing the labour her own.

however, as rúben and adriana walked down the airport towards her gates with people flocking them as they went, rúben couldn’t help but get reminded of what his father used to say. adriana took the stride with pride, embracing this ugly side of rúben’s life that people always breached and forgot he was also a fellow human with a need to protect his privacy also.

she kept engaging him in small conversations like it was another day for her, as if it was actually that easy to be around him with cameras pointing towards them. she made it look easy in the process to tuck away the reality and instead focusing on rúben and rúben dos santos gato alves dias only. the one that adriana got to know the past hour, not the manchester city’s number 3 everyone else got to see from the silver screen.

that was when he knew she was worthy of the life he could give her in the future. because frankly enough, not everyone was ready for the consequences nor did they willingly accept the baggage that came with dating a footballer playing under a name as big as manchester city.

“this is me, then.”

they had to go through almost 40 gates to reach hers, yet they’d arrived? rúben started to question the concept of time his physics teacher used to teach him. “what a short trip, i expected 15 minutes.”

adriana scoffed. “it is 15 minutes to get here, rúben.”

for once, she hated her job, too, for making her a frequent flyer to a land so far away from everyone’s reach. whoever said distance makes heart grow fonder surely had never experienced living in an off-shore rig. she hated that the very particular fact already distanced her from rúben, whose hands were now tucked in his jeans. awkward, and rúben dias didn’t suit awkward at all. not after having him around her for hours without a moment of awkwardness.

oh, how much adriana wanted to reach those hands of his again. despite the crude surface due to grazing the hardness of green grass, it brought safety and comfort to her. a feeling she’d definitely keep deep down her heart.

“aren’t you going back to your gate?”

“nah, i’m staying until i know your plane’s taken off safely.”

another pregnant pause.

and rúben hated it. but he didn’t want to touch adriana once more, for he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from purchasing a one-way ticket to tokyo. or wherever adriana was staying.

“alright then, suit yourself, champ,” adriana corrected the sling of her backpack, and rúben was glad he wasn’t the only one who didn’t know what to do with the tension between them both. “i’m going now. thank you for the amazing time, rúben. i genuinely enjoyed it.”

rúben could only nod, terrified of the other things that might escape his mouth so loosely. so he chose his words wisely, “have a safe flight.”

adriana smiled to his words, but rúben noticed the smile didn’t reach her eyes. she was sad, and rúben badly wanted to suggest that they should be sad together instead.

the airport announcement boomed throughout the building once more. rúben watched she took a peak of the line behind her, the boarding counter now almost deserted from people, and when she returned her sight to him, he saw resolution behind her eyes. it was then he knew he was out of time to convince her to stay, nothing else would waver her.

but before he could act upon his thoughts, adriana beat him to it once more.

fuck it, she thought inwardly. it’d be at least christmas before she could see him again—that is if he still wanted her around by that time. rúben had shot his fire, might as well shoot her own bullets while he was in front of her. so she stood on her toes, in order to reach rúben’s face, but to no avail, it resulted her to only reach a small part under his chin, full of light stubbles but his manly smell intoxicated her beyond words. she was glad she could only plant a featherlike peck there, or else she’d be spinningly dizzy.

the movement was as fast as a thunder struck but being a professional ball kicker, rúben had trained his reflexes all of his life. before adriana could notice, rúben had placed his hands on her waist, steadying her so she wouldn’t fall back on her ass disgracefully from the loss of balance, despite being caught off guard.

her hand remained on his cheek, as she bid her farewell of “take care, rúben,” but he could take the impression she’d wished to elongate the moment. so she could take in the feeling of having him under her hands, so she could take in the feeling of having him wrapped around her for the first and the last time today, so she could take in the feeling before she had to be deprived of this until the next time they met.

so he leaned in, doing the very one thing he had been dying to do. he eliminated the thames-long distance between them, relishing the liberating feeling of finally having what he had been desiring since the first time she popped up in front of him, for he wouldn’t have the luxury to do this as much as he would want to. not until the next time they met. with his year-long schedule, she’d be lucky if he could sneak off sometime between christmas and new year.

despite their lack of time, rúben kissed adriana deep and slow, like they had all the time in the world. his hands were now respectfully settling on her waist and the back of her neck, angling her to a comfortable position for them both, ever so gently yet full of passion. like they had done this thousands of times before.

her head was officially spinning around to the point of no return.

rúben was taking everything she could give, no remnants left behind. every gasp, every suppressed moan, every hidden groan, every nip, every desire. he didn’t care if he came off like a dementor sucking a soul out of another human; he wanted this, he needed this. so soft, so sweet, so adriana yet her lips had a streak of him across them now. she was now tasted like him, sweet temptation and danger, all in one. exactly like the dream he didn’t want to wake up from.

adriana pulled away first, her brain alerted her it was time to go and that she also required air if she wanted to live another day. she opened her eyes only to see his already staring at her, grinning like they were not going to different directions, his thumb grazed her wet lips that was covered with them.

“text me before you take off.”

and adriana had already planned to spend the last of this month’s earning to buy the on-board wifi. “i’ll text you whenever i can.”

with one last kiss between them, adriana reluctantly let go of rúben and willed herself to take a step towards the boarding counter.

gone was the warmth she would now associate this city with, both the usual sunny weather and rúben himself. adriana wasn’t a fan of cold weather herself to be honest, today just added another reason to the bag. she had even longed the pricky sensation of his sheer, unshaved beard underneath the palm of her hands.

being taller than average, rúben stood tall above everyone else’s head and watched as adriana’s figure slowly blended between the crowd lining up for the plane they’d been waiting for. call him impossible but even from afar, rúben still couldn’t take his eyes off her the way they met the first time tens of hours ago—doesn’t matter to him if it was the small of her back, the back of her head. it was still adriana, it was still parts of the amazing person he got to know the past several hours.

as rúben prayed for his feeling to not falter soon, that whatever they were having were not just some withering memories like summer breeze, adriana looked back to his direction. spotting the gigantic portugese amongst the crowd, still standing and waiting for her until she boarded the plane like he promised, she grinned and mouthed see you soon as if they’d meet again.

rúben took it as a sign for the universe to act upon it and not just prayed it wouldn’t be a fleeting moment. he’d make sure they will meet again, as soon as his schedule allowed him to be, because this time, he believed what people said; with great sacrifices comes great results. and he, for god knows why, believed this time adriana was worth everything he did, does and will fight for.

maybe a delayed gratification was what rúben was looking for as the answer to his initial question.

[oh-saints]

Star gazing with ruben dias

stars

“pretty people should always be surrounded by pretty things,” rúben likes to say to you. and he stands by it, never giving you less than all the pretty things he thinks you deserve. up until the very end of your life.

rúben dias x you

word count: 2.1k

tw: implied talks about life and death

note: hi hi hi i’m back! finally managed to battle jetlag and post-breakup heartbreak and all the jazz… anyway the summary and the tw might indicate spoiler...👀 so proceed at your own risk. but as usual, i happen to write at dawn so ofc this is not proof-read.

“gatinha,”

you were perched on the stool on the opposite of the kitchen island, on the other end of where he was cooking, watching him stirring the pot that was hosting his favourite dish that night, legs dangling like a kid on a swing.

it was another friday for you two. on fridays where he didn’t have to go for an away match, you held the tradition to be civil and normal by ordering in dinner or he cooked for the lives of you both. the tradition included you indulging him the pleasure of being called with an affectionate portugese pet name, and he’d laugh at how badly you butchered the pronunciation.

and he was about to do just that—chuckling at your terrible but endearing effort—when you continued, eyes were casted down like your feet were more amazing that looking at his eyes.

that was when rúben realised something was off the mark. because you’d declared openly to him that you love his brown orbs so much to the point you didn’t think you could say no if he looked at you intensely with those eyes—the claim was still proven true until now without amiss, by the way.

“can we take the dinner to the backyard?”

with your pursed lips, rúben immediately noticed the nervousness that was hiding behind the strong front.

it wasn’t his first or second rodeo actually, seeing you nervous when asking something. one of the things rúben liked about you was how you almost never asked of him about anything, unless necessary. so different to people he’d met before, asking too much when they couldn’t give anything in return. and that was solidified rúben’s justification to date you already, despite being ordinary person compared to his superstar status, because you made him want to do anything and everything you didn’t ask for.

it started small, at first. trinkets from his away matches, then it grew into sending a bouquet of flowers every week to your small coffeeshop. and still, what you appreciated the most wasn’t the stuffs he brought to your table but the little notes he left behind for you because for you, it was always the thought that mattered.

the same reason you never asked for extravagant dinners, branded clothes and bags, or all these things rúben could’ve easily gotten for you. the same reason you only accepted him entirely into your life—after he sent you a hampers of flowers and fine china mugs, with a hand-written scribbles of pretty people should always be surrounded by pretty things.

so who was he to deny when you, for once in blood moon, asked something from him?

“anything you want, meu anjo,” was always rúben’s answer whenever you had a favour to ask, and he meant it without further question asked. as long as it was within his capacity and capability, he intended to make it real for you.

“thank you,” and you would always grin widely at him every time he responded to your silly requests, so wide it turned your eyes into a pair of sickle moons, and rúben had never looked at whatever orbiting the sky the same anymore since he’d met you. you paled everything else in this terrestrial realm the way the moon outshone everything else in its own reign.

especially when you smile, the way you were doing now as rúben laid down the traditional red picnic mat he’d kept from the last time he had the idea of doing a picnic nearby hyde park. you’re always genuine when you smile, to the point you would rather stir the conversation elsewhere if it required you to fake a reaction, so rúben knew every smile coming from you is precious and he swore he’d do anything to keep them alive whenever you were with him.

but for once, rúben had to question his eyes when he noticed the glint in your eyes faltered a bit, despite the smile still attached to your face, as you asked him, “do you think the stars are alive, my love?”

you were supposed to twinkle like the object in talking, so why did you look so tense?

“i truthfully don’t know,” rúben tucked the freshly-cut short hair behind your ears, so soft against his rough skin, while you laid down on the red fabric. “you tell me, meu anjo.”

“i think they do. it’ll explain why some are bright and some aren’t,” while the smile were still intact, your eyes shut down, and rúben missed them already, for they were so clear the stars could be reflected through them as if you were an extension to the starlit sky. “some are having good days and some aren’t.”

“then do they die, minha vida?”

“yes, i think they do. it’ll explain the fallen stars,” you patted the empty spot beside yours, silently urging rúben to lie down beside you and watch the night skyline together. “what do you think?”

rúben didn’t concede to your whim this time though, because he thought he was looking at his universe already. “why do you think they can die?”

“because sadly, in life, pretty things cannot last forever, rúben.”

however, when rúben was awoken by the loud sound of you crashing down the toiletries in your shared bathroom, only to find you collapsed lifelessly on the floor, things were slowly put into its respective place by Mother Nature.

things you were supposed to hide from him, that is.

it didn’t take a genius to figure out eventually that something had gone terribly wrong with you because you had never fallen down like a paper doll like that. the sight of you lying helplessly unconscious even terrified him to the point he was praying loudly to god—or whoever that might be listening—to save you, as he’d never seen your skin so pale and your lips so blue.

and he’d noticed the nervous, shaking baritone of the ER doctors that had come to your aide when they were about to explain their deduction of your condition.

but he never expected the doctors would be dropping a nuclear bomb on his head.

out of all things he could think of, a brain tumour at the most dangerous part of your brain was definitely not something in his cards. the position was too risky for an immediate surgery, especially with the humongous size you were having, so chemotherapy was what you’d been doing behind his back—and it was only now it made sense to him why you liked to wear scarfs over your head as of late.

but you were racing against time. as an early result, you were losing your hair and eyesight at the same time. the combination of the position and the weight of the deadly mound was slowly eroding your vision, and sudden blackout was actually expected if rúben had known earlier about it.

hell, had he known about it…

good god, he should’ve seen the signs. the scarfs, the constant ponytails around him, the recently short-cut hair… so weird when you know he loves your hair dangling down your back so much.

how could he think of the ridiculous number of meds you were taking as merely vitamins?

so stupid of him.

“i’ll convince her to take the surgery,” was all his response at the end of the doctors’ explanation. how could she think of delaying the inevitable, when her eyesight was what was at risk? when she was at risk?

but of course, he was met by a ferocious response from you. so fierce it actually scared the life of rúben, for you had never been so violent and abrasive around him. you were always calm and collected, the two of you made a rather cold couple from the outside.

“it’s a decision where my life’s at stake, rúben!” you cried out, desperation lingered in the air—rúben from wanting to have you back in pristine condition; yours from the freight of what you could lose entirely, should the surgery go south. “you can’t decide that for me!”

but who was he to deny when you asked something from him, when you’d asked nothing from him?

so rúben conceded to your whims of undergoing chemo. he’d made sure your monthly schedule was right up in his alley, on days where he didn’t have to travel for an away match, so he could be by your side without fail. he wasn’t about to let you go through endless post-procedure vomits alone without help, he would be the one holding your hand before and after the long-hours procedure had ended.

he wasn’t about to leave you behind when the waves were rough, when the most devilish demon in the form of insecurity came knocking on your door. he would be the one swiping your tears away and kissing you breathlessly to tell you that you were still beautiful in his eyes because you gave the meaning of the word entirely different since he’d come to know you.

only pep knew the reason behind his monthly absence, though, for rúben had promised you absolute secrecy from the world about your condition. albeit, still with a sworn commitment that rúben shall deliver every match he was starting.

despite your resilience throughout the whole procedure and diligence in participating every pre and post procedural events, your condition was beyond the chemo’s saving. it had taken rúben numerous days to hold you in his arms while you cried for your life, endless hours to say all the reasons to fight your firm belief you were on the losing ends rather than reaping the possible benefits that might come after the procedure, and abundance of word strings that was equivalent to how much rúben loves you, even if you couldn’t see him anymore.

the last one held the biggest contribution to your final decision to undergo the surgery, as suggested. rúben’s countless declaration of his love, regardless of your detoriating condition, pushed you to take the life-altering procedure because deep down, you wanted to become better—for yourself, for both of you, and mostly for him.

for rúben, who’d been nothing less than a perfect boyfriend you could ever ask for since day 1.

“come here.”

rúben kneeled forward without further ado, bringing himself closer to your arm’s length. your hands immediately reached for his stubbles, stroked the sharp edges along his jaw and cheekbones ever so slowly. your eyes traced where your hands went, and he knew you were back trying to memorise your favourite features of him.

he hated it, the depressing thought you were having—that this surgery might fail and this was your last chance to see him, feel him before complete blackness became your friend. you were one of the brightest, most positive person he’d come across and he hated that this disease were slowly taking the light away from you too.

“i love you,” and rúben didn’t stutter his words. his eyes zeroed down on you, unwavering like his words, and you smiled widely at that because you knew he knew the demonic thoughts you weren’t supposed to be having. had you had the energy, you would certainly laugh at your boyfriend for catching you red.

“i know.”

“good, because i’m going to wait right here, okay?”

you nodded with a rather meek smile this time, and rúben’s heart constricted at the sight because he knew you were mustering every energy left inside of you, yet you still looked so ethereally beautiful as if the disease weren’t eating your life away. “okay.”

“so you must come back to me, you hear me?” rúben brought your flimsy hand to kiss the back of your hand, your knuckles. “promise me that.”

“i will,” your hand slipped away from his, only to reach up to his face and pulled his lips towards yours to seal the deal. “i love you.”

the gentle breeze whispered against his lips were enough of an assurance at that time, for you said it with a tone as resolute as someone of your condition could do. so he let you go after one last kiss—a short one this time as he watched the stars in your eyes were slowly fleeting away, thanks to the meds kicking in—wheeled by the medics into the operating theatre, and already looking forward to see you again in the next couple of hours.

but rúben should’ve known that will was never a stronger word than going to when promising something.

for you never came back to him.

and the stars shone the brightest he’d ever seen that night since coming in town.

[oh-saints]

as a fellow ruben girlie here, i'm so happy for the anon! imagine seeing ruben's ass live 👀 BUT HERE ME OUT BESTIE can you please make something out of her (incoming) experience? pretty please? 🥹

you. did. not?!?! BCS YOU WON'T BELIEVE HOW FAST I MADE THIS i really need to stick with closing the request box bcs i've been getting so many 😭

signs

you hold up a sign that caught rúben’s attention… and he takes it in his liberty as a sign from the universe.

rúben dias x you

word count: 1.2k (short one because this is sort of a comeback/warm-up piece lol)

tw: brief mention of alcohol

note: this is inspired on this fellow ruben girlie’s incoming experience but let’s just think of this as manifesting *good things* from front row, yeah? as usual, i happen to write during work so this is ofc not beta-read. feedbacks are also welcome! i'm so torn on whether or not to be writing a follow-up to this tho><

your girlies’ idea of bachelorette party was, for the lack of words, non-traditional.

instead of penis-shaped cake and lipstick scribbles across the face or a heavily-drunken trip to and from the strip club, you were flying to Portugal to catch the male national team on action. per the soon-to-be-bride’s words, it was her last chance to fawn over handsome men she never gets the chance to have before settling with the reality that her fiancé is nowhere near the delicious set of men with stubbles and godly bodies.

in reality, you have to agree with the sentiment. there’s no way an ordinary girl like you, no matter how much you try to dream waking up beside rúben dias, is going to end up with a someone that shares one room with Cristiano Ronaldo in the camp. best choice you can have is probably the goalkeeper from your office’s football club.

so who are you to reject the offer of the front row access to see those muscular thighs up close and personal?

however, what your friends didn’t tell you about was the fact that the embarrassing element was going to still be present. it just wasn’t in the form of the lap dance you were getting from the strippers or the walk-of-shame you had to do when you walk out of a club pretty smashed.

it came in the form of the sign boards the upcoming bride had especially prepared for this very day.

everyone was designated for a sign board with different words respectively. it wasn’t provoking enough but the blurred lines were pretty obvious to imply you and your peer group were sexually frustrated in front of these hot guys. quoting the matron of the event, “there’s nothing wrong in trying to get their attention.”

but you’d like to think that wobbly walks you had to endure from the taxi to your flat on the 3rd floor would be much better than holding up the sign in your hands now. well, anything is better than waving “Marry me, Dias! I got the energy of a stallion!” placard from the side lines, to be honest.

you swore under your breath that if the bride wasn’t your best friend from the university days—who was truly having the time of her life, by the way, with the way she was screaming cancelo’s name like tomorrow’s ending—you’d ditch this event immediately. no matter how much you initially wanted the exquisite view of these stunning guys running and drenched in sweat sexily for 90 minutes.

“here, drink this.”

and you didn’t think twice before downing the bitter liquid from the flask another friend of yours managed to sneak in. how she did it—you didn’t want to know, but you got to admit there was a reason why she was the valedictorian. you needed the instant adrenaline injected to your bloodstream because there was no way in hell you were going to lift up the mortifying stack of words sober.

the alcohol effected the way you took on your surroundings, obviously. albeit you were still not as loose as the others, you came to accept your defeat when you started screaming for rúben, too, in the way the future bride was screaming for cancelo and the valedictorian for felix.

people around you were definitely throwing you and your girls various looks. some were disgusted at the dirty words indicating the bride’s dirtiest fantasies on cancelo—which you admitted went a bit too far sometimes—some were also laughing whenever she casted a curse on the opponents tackling the right winger. some others shook their heads in confusion because why the fuck was there a group of thirsty women in a very manly event?

but you could care less. your friends were having the best moments in their lives and you were not going to be a bitch about it. you were not going to even acknowledge the second-hand embarrassment you were internally having because of your friend’s peculiar antics, which had intensified as they ran out of liquid contents from the shared silver flask belonging to the valedictorian.

the rest of the girls—not you, who’d taken in a considerable amount of alcohol compared to others and could now be considered their sober friend—reached their peak when the whistle blew on the final minutes. the winning atmosphere kind of encouraged those crazy ladies to jump in their seats with their assigned sign boards. you even had to stop another friend of yours from flashing her boobs in public because dealing with police in a foreign country was the last thing in your bucket list.

you pleaded them to come down from their seats, as well. in your defence, they could fall off the seat flat on their faces and a swollen bride and her entourage were definitely not welcomed on the wedding day. but they didn’t give a shit about it and laughed at your face for not soaking up the moment as good as they were.

you turned away from the crazy bunch by facepalming your face, the tip of your thumb was massaging the space between your eyebrows. you thought it was working to ease off the headache, for suddenly the girls went silent in the background.

but you realised it wasn’t the case at all when you heard a familiar voice that you used to listen on several man of the match interview.

“hey, kid,” and you had to look up to make sure your head wasn’t playing tricks on you. “here’s for you.”

rúben was actually standing behind the barricade placed between the field and the audience seats. his hand was stretched to give the shirt he’d worn today to the little kid beside you, who’d been flailing his own sign board of can I have your shirt? throughout the match. the kid jumped at the opportunity, his father behind him thanking the football player for his generosity, and you were blinded by the smile etched on his face as wide as the Mississippi river.

you didn’t bother to blame your humiliating friends for shutting up anymore because you were as stunned as they were.

“and you, my lady,”

you turned your head to spot the person behind you, the one the defender was pointing at, so ready to congratulate whoever the lucky woman was for being able to entice the rúben dias’ attention. but you were met with bunch of men instead, shouting parabens, rúben!

so you twisted your body again, this time towards the towering number 3, with a rather perplexed expression because his line of sight hadn’t moved an inch from where you stood. your nearest friend was one or two feet away from you, and noticing how flustered you were in figuring out his call was meant for you, rúben let out a small laugh but enough to make your entire body trembled with overwhelming warmth.

“yes, you, the one who wears joao cancelo’s name on the back,” and that could be your entire team, for it was the bride’s request to wear her favourite player’s number. “I think you’d suit my last name better, no? your sign says you ask for it anyway.”

every power evaporated from your legs right away.