#Ruben Dias fanfic

[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.

[menteycorazoncito]

Jacked and Kind - Rúben Dias

ᥫ᭡: pairing: Rúben Dias x reader

ᥫ᭡: request: Rúben doing the "boy who's jacked and kind" trend and being very smug about it. Based on this request

ᥫ᭡: a/n: Finally, a Rúben fic with many to come. I has so much fun writing this. Like, have you guys seen this man? He was made for this trend!!!!

navigation | request guidelines

The golden light of the setting sun shone in your living room, adding to the already cozy atmosphere. It was one of those evening where you and your boyfriend spent doing absolutely nothing. Rúben had come back exhausted from training, so the two of you had settled into each other’s arms on the sofa. 

You were scrolling through TikTok, like always, until you stumbled across a TikTok of a couple doing the “boy who is jacked and kind” trend. Intrigued, you went on the sound to see more videos. Beside you, Rúben looked up from his own phone, to see why the same audio was playing over and over.

“What are you up to?” he asked a bit suspicious. 

You tilted your phone towards him, showing him the latest trend. ���We have to do this.” you insisted.

Rúben leaned closer, “You want me to do that?"

“Obviously,” you said, already on your feet. “You are made for this - ‘Jacked and kind’, that’s literally you.”

“Are you questioning my strength?” he smirked, clearly amused.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the grin on your face. “So, are you doing it, or are you scared?” 

“Scared? It’s like you don’t know me at all.” he said, this competitiveness ignited.

Rúben gets up as you prop your phone up on the vase of a nearby cabinet. He stretched his arms, showing off, to tease you some more before stepping closer behind you. 

“Don’t you dare drop me!” you warned him before starting the TikTok. 

“Never.” he reassured you. 

As Sabrina’s song echoed from your phone. Rúben came up behind you, and secured his arms around your thighs. He lifted you effortlessly off the ground and onto his shoulder like you weighed nothing. Your hand gripped his other shoulder for balance, laughter bubbling out of you. Rúben grinned smugly as he showed off his guns for the video. 

To be honest, you were enjoying this more that you would have liked to admit. 

When the recording ended, he set you back onto your feet. Both of you walked over to the phone to see the end result and you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face as you watched your boyfriend lifting you like you were the lightest thing in the world. 

“See? Perfection.” he said with pride.

You quickly pressed your lips together faking disappointment, as an idea popped in your head. “Hmm… it’s off beat. We didn’t get the timing right. But it’s okay.” 

His eyes darted from the video to you. “No no no, I don’t do things okay.” 

“Seriously it’s fine” you tried to play it off by reassuring him. “No one will notice.”

“Give me your phone” he was not having it. He took it and set it up again to retake. “We are redoing this.”

You couldn’t contain the grin that made it’s way onto your face from excitement. The truth was, you loved watching him show off his strength, and being lifted like that made you feel giddy. Like a teenage girl with her celebrity crush. 

Rúben however caught up quickly on what you were trying to do. “... you little shit.” 

“Huh?” you asked, faking confusion. 

“We weren’t actually off-beat, were we? You just wanted an excuse for me to lift you again.” 

“No…” you lied, slightly blushing at the fact that you got caught. “I said it’s okay but you insisted.”

“Oh, so I’m the problem now?” he teased, “Come here…” 

Before you could protest, his arms were around your thighs, as he lifting you in the air again. 

As the recording ended, he put you back down to watch the video. He crossed his arms and looked at you expectantly. 

“Jacked and kind indeed.” you thought out loud, not hiding your admiration.

He leaned closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him. “Only for you,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. 

taglist: @httpsdana

[httpsdana]

Since Ruben got himself a new puppy I need to read fic with Ruben being jealous of new addition to the family. The puppy won’t leave his girlfriend side even for a night sleep and being really protective of her when Ruben around

Man-to-man~Rúben Dias

���❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

Rúben stepped into the house after an exhausting match, dropping his keys on the nearby table. He kicked off his shoes, placing them on the shoe rack.

He called out for his girlfriend, but didn't hear anything in response. When he stepped into the living room, he saw her sitting there, a book in hand and their new addition to the family, Zazu the little brown ball of fur, curled up on her lap while she scratched behind his ears.

“Now that's betrayal. I called out for you and you didn't answer” He said, making her look up at him surprised.

“you're here? how was the match, honey?” she asked, watching as he dropped down next to her.

“you didn't watch it?” his voice was a bit disappointed, making her quickly shake her head.

“I did, but this little one distracted me a lot. didn't you baby?” she cooed the little puppy in her arms.

Rúben scoffed, making her raise an eyebrow but she didn't question him.

“Can we go to bed please? I just want to relax” Rúben pleaded, tugging on her hand.

“of course, let's go” as soon as she got up, Zazu was already sprinting to the room.

Rúben opened his mouth to speak up but stopped when y/n laughed, picking up the pace of her steps.

Rúben let out a sigh, following his girlfriend and the little thing who seems like he's been replacing him.

When he got to the room, he saw Zazu curled up in his spot, while y/n was giggling at the little puppy.

“oh absolutely not” Rúben shook his head, stepping closer to the bed.

“what?” y/n asked him, confused.

“he has to sleep in his own bed, simba never sleeps with us in bed” he reached out, holding the little puppy in his hand, only for him to squirm out of his hand and dart back onto the bed. This caused y/n to laugh at the annoyed look on Ruben's face.

“listen here little guy, let's have a talk, man-to-man” Rúben said, pointing his index finger at Zazu who was looking up at him with wide eyes.

“she is my girlfriend. I cuddle her, I feed her, and I…” he looked up at her, before leaning down to whisper in the puppy's ear. “you know…do other things to her” he whispered, making y/n burst into laughter.

“So you're gonna be sleeping in your bed tonight” Rúben said.

Zazu let out a whimper as Rúben held him again to place him outside the room. When he did, Rúben got in bed, pulling her closer to place her head on his chest.

“how cute is it for you to be jealous of that innocent thing” she teased, making him roll his eyes.

Before he could reply, Zazu was on the bed, but this time he curled up on Rúben's chest next to y/n's head.

Rúben let out a sigh, before smiling slightly.

“see he loves you too” she said, scratching the dog's head as he fell asleep.

“he better love me. I was the one who brought him here” Rúben joked, making her chuckle.

She leaned up, pressing a kiss on his jaw as he traced shapes on her back in a soothing way.

“don't worry you'll be my number one always, if you keep on feeding, cuddling, and ‘doing other things to me’” she mimicked his words earlier, making him laugh, the rumbling of his chest as he laughed making Zazu let out a whimper.

“sorry baby” y/n said, pressing a kiss on the puppy's head.

“one for me too” Rúben said, leaning down to kiss her. She smiled against his lips, kissing him once again before they settled in bed, ready to unwind.

my taglist: @barcapix @paucubarsisimp @spidybaby @mxryxmfooty @n0vazsq @joaosnovia @ilovebarcaaa @f1lover55 @jajajhaahaha (lmk if you want to be added!!)

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

never let me go | ruben dias

💐 synopsis: As a newlywed couple, you and Ruben are deeply in love and spend an intimate emotional night together in a coastal villa. tags: honeymoon night, smut but make it cute and passionate (written in 2nd person but no mention of yn) | (around 3k words)

The bedroom door creaks open, and you step inside, still holding the hem of your dress to keep it from brushing against the floor. The room looks like it’s been waiting for you both all night. The villa is quiet except for the waves. You can hear them breaking against the rocks below, a steady rhythm that feels like it’s syncing with your heartbeat. The air smells of salt and the faintest trace of citrus from the grove you passed on your way in. 

Behind you, Ruben steps in shutting the door behind him with a soft click. He’s loosened his tie, his white shirt slightly wrinkled from hours of hugs and laughter and dancing at the wedding party, but somehow, he still looks immaculate. Just the sight of him is enough to send a wave of warmth through you, the kind that starts low in your stomach and spreads all the way to your fingertips.

You turn to say something – maybe a joke about how exhausted you are from dancing, or how your cheeks still ache from smiling too much – but before the words can form, he’s already closing the space between you.

“Wait,” he says, his voice teasing as his hands settle on your waist. In one swift motion, he lifts you off the floor. You let out a startled laugh, your arms flying around his neck.

“Ruben!”

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” he says, his smile widening as he steadies you in his arms. 

His fingers shift slightly, holding you tighter. Then he leans in closer, his forehead almost touching yours, and his voice softens.

“With my beautiful wife.”

The words hit you square in the chest, and you’re not sure how to hold all of it – the tenderness, the certainty, the love. Your grip on him tightens instinctively, your fingertips brushing against the warm nape of his neck.

“Your wife,” you repeat, almost testing the weight of the words, and they come out so quiet they barely make it past your lips. But he hears them. Of course he hears them. “That still feels weird to say.”

“Get used to it,” he says, then he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’re mine now.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “I’ve been yours long before today, Ruben.”

He tilts his head back slightly, a playful gleam in his eyes. “True.” He pauses. “But now I get to say it officially.”

“Officially, huh?” you tease. “I think you’re just excited about the title.”

“I mean, it’s a pretty good title,” he says, his voice low and thoughtful, as though he's seriously considering the weight of the word. “Wife has a nice ring to it.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes playfully. “You’re ridiculous.” But the smile spreading across your face betrays you, and the entire moment feels too perfect to be real. It’s like you’re floating, suspended in this bubble of joy that you never want to break.

Ruben leans in again, this time pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering just long enough to send a flutter through your chest. “I’m just happy,” he says quietly.

“I know.” You rest your head against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat matching the rhythm of the waves outside. The sound is calming, familiar, grounding you in this moment, but inside, your heart feels like it’s ready to burst from the sheer intensity of everything you’re feeling. You want to hold on to this, to him, forever.

“I’m happy too,” you add, your fingers tracing small, absentminded patterns along his shirt. The words feel too small to describe everything that’s swelling inside of you – the love, the yearning, the certainty of him being everything you ever needed.

He tightens his arms around you, his hand resting on the back of your neck, and you feel the warmth of his palm against your skin. You look up at him, eyes meeting his with a hunger that neither of you can hide.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, the words rough, full of a hunger that sends a heat through you that has nothing to do with the warmth of the room. He leans in, his lips catching yours in a kiss that’s deep, urgent, filled with all the things you’ve been trying to hold back all night.

Your hands slide down his chest, pulling at the fabric of his shirt as you arch against him, feeling the heat of his body pressing into yours. The kiss breaks for a moment, both of you gasping for air, and his forehead rests against yours, breaths mingling as the room spins.

“I need you,” he says, his voice thick with desire. His hands slide down your back, pulling you closer, the space between you shrinking as if the two of you can’t get close enough. You feel the rush of his breath against your skin, the desperation in his touch making your pulse race.

“Then take me,” you whisper, your voice barely audible but charged with everything you want. His eyes darken and in one smooth motion, he lays you gently on the bed. 

Ruben hovers over you, his eyes roaming your face as if he’s memorizing every detail. “You have no idea how much I want you,” he says, his voice even rougher now, but still filled with the same adoration that makes your chest tighten with affection.

You tilt your head back, your hair spilling across the pillows, and reach for him again, your hands grasping at the fabric of his shirt, pulling him down to you. You need him just as much, feel the ache of it in every inch of your skin, every beat of your heart.

And then he’s kissing you again, deeper this time, the desperation in his touch matching your own. His body presses against yours, hot and heavy, and you can feel the way he’s trying to keep control, but you can also feel the way he’s unraveling beneath your touch. You pull him closer, your hands sliding underneath his shirt to feel the warmth of his skin against yours.

Ruben pulls back for a second, and his hands move to the zipper of your dress. His fingers are clumsy, a bit too eager, fumbling with the fabric like it’s something he’s never seen before.

"Hold on," he mutters, trying again, but the zipper doesn’t budge. You can't help but laugh softly, a little nervous giggle that catches him off guard.

"You okay?" he asks, his brow furrowed in concentration, his hands still working on the zipper.

"Yeah," you chuckle, lifting your arms so he has more room. "You’re gonna have to work for this, huh?"

He laughs too, shaking his head. "Apparently, yes." His face softens with a smile. He gives up on the zipper and moves his hands to the straps, trying to slide them off your shoulders, but the dress won’t cooperate. The whole thing is tangled now, your arms awkwardly raised, your whole body stuck in this massive, elegant piece of fabric.

You both sit there, slightly breathless. Ruben shifts on the bed, leaning back with a deep sigh and letting out a laugh that sounds more from disbelief than frustration.

“Okay,” he says, voice breaking with a half-laugh. “This is ridiculous.”

You lean back against the bed, unable to hold back your laughter anymore. “I told you it was complicated.”

He shrugs with a grin. 

You sit up, trying to find a way to untangle the mess of fabric, and he watches you for a second, both of you smiling at how absurd the whole situation is. The tension that was there a few minutes ago has eased, replaced by an ease that only comes when you're with someone you trust.

After a few more moments of playful struggling, Ruben finally manages to slip the dress off your body with a triumphant sigh, leaving you in nothing but the delicate white lingerie you’d bought specifically for tonight.

You sit up, feeling exposed but free, and Ruben takes a moment to just look at you. His eyes are full of admiration, as if he can’t quite believe that you’re here with him, in this moment. There’s no rush in the way he looks at you, just pure, unfiltered affection.

"God," he murmurs, almost to himself, a slight awe in his voice. "You’re perfect."

You feel the heat rise in your chest, the flutters in your stomach, but it's not nerves or embarrassment this time. It’s love – love that feels so big it could swallow you whole, but in the best way. Ruben reaches for you, his hands gently cupping your face as he leans in, pressing a slow kiss to your lips.

When he pulls back, he looks at you for a long moment, his forehead resting against yours. "I don’t want to rush this," he whispers. "I want to remember every moment of tonight."

You nod, your breath hitching. Ruben’s hands are gentle, almost reverent, as they move over every inch of you, he’s not rushing – every touch, every kiss, every bite, it all feels like he’s savoring you. His lips finding every spot that makes you shiver, his teeth grazing over your skin like he’s marking you, claiming you in the most tender way possible.

His lips trace the curve of your neck, and then his teeth nip just below your ear. You gasp, your body involuntarily arching into him, but he doesn’t hurry. He moves lower, his lips finding the soft, sensitive skin of your collarbone, then your shoulder, trailing kisses all the way down your arm. When he bites lightly on the inside of your elbow, you can’t suppress the moan that escapes you, the sensation tightening everything inside of you.

He’s taking his time with every inch of your body, moving from one part of you to the next, his lips leaving behind a trail of heat in their wake. Your skin feels on fire, the sensation of him against you so intoxicating that it’s nearly impossible to focus on anything else. Your breath comes faster, your heart pounding in your chest, and despite the way his touch makes you feel completely undone, you can’t help but want more. You need more.

“Ruben…” you murmur, barely able to catch your breath. Your voice cracks with the desperation you feel deep inside, your body pulsing with the need for him. “Please…”

He pauses for a moment, looking up at you with that same adoring, almost possessive gaze. His lips are swollen, his chest rising and falling just as rapidly as yours. But he doesn’t speak. He just studies you, the desire in his eyes nearly suffocating in its intensity. And then his mouth returns to your skin, moving lower, his lips kissing, biting, teasing, marking every inch of your body as if he’s trying to make it impossible for you to ever forget this moment.

You bite your lip, trying to hold it together, but it’s becoming unbearable, the longing inside you too powerful to ignore. “Ruben,” you beg again, your voice full of want. “Please… take your clothes off.”

The heat is building so quickly between you both that you can’t hold back anymore. He doesn’t need any more encouragement. Ruben moves quickly, almost impatiently now, but still with that careful tenderness. He unbuttons his shirt, tossing it aside without breaking his eyes from you. 

He stands over you for a second, his body in front of you like it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. The smooth lines of his chest, the way his muscles shift as he moves, it’s enough to make your breath hitch again. His eyes flicker to yours, and then his hands are at the waistband of his pants, swiftly unbuttoning them. The anticipation, the waiting, makes your chest tighten with excitement, and your heart races as he steps out of his pants, leaving him standing in only his boxers.

Then Ruben leans down over you, his hands on either side of your face, his lips brushing over yours in the softest kiss. But it’s not enough. Not anymore. His hands slide down to your waist, the desire in his eyes is like fire, and you know he’s feeling it just as much as you are – burning with it, aching for it. You can’t stand the waiting anymore.

“Please…” you whisper, your voice trembling with the need that’s been building since he first touched you. “I can’t wait anymore.”

Ruben doesn’t need any more words. His mouth finds yours again in a kiss so full of hunger and longing, it’s like he’s trying to devour you, to take in every part of you. 

His fingers rest at the edge of your mouth before gently slipping two of them inside, grazing your tongue in slow, deliberate circles.

“Is this what you want?” he asks, his voice shaken, but still trying to sound calm, controlled.

You can’t answer immediately, not with his fingers pressing against your lips, so you shake your head instead.

He chuckles softly, that familiar teasing smile tugging at his lips. “I thought you wanted to feel me inside of you, amor.” 

Your heart races in your chest as he tilts his head, still smiling, before slowly pulling his fingers from your mouth. His touch lingers for a moment, then he lowers his hand.

“Okay, I’ve got a better idea. Let’s put them somewhere else,” he says, his voice low with intent.

He takes your hand, guiding it to help him, though you both know he doesn’t really need it. He’s still teasing you. He gently moves your underwear aside, pushing those two fingers, now dripping wet with your spit, inside of your cunt. His touch is slow, in-and-out, and you can’t help but shiver at the feeling of him finally as close as you want him, as you need him to be.

“Better now?” he asks, pride in his voice as he watches your reaction, a satisfied smile playing at the corners of his lips.

You nod, unable to hide the warmth building inside you. “Better,” you whisper.

His other hand, gentle, caresses the side of your face, his thumb brushing across your cheek – and then he kisses you. His mouth is warm and comforting against yours, you pull him a little closer, needing the warmth of him, the closeness, and he responds, his body pressing against yours as if to reassure you that he’s there, that he’s not going anywhere. 

His free hand moves to your breasts, tracing your nipples, and you let out a soft sigh against his lips. For a long moment, you stay like that – wrapped up in each other, his hands all over you, inside of you.

The kiss deepens, and the tension between you builds, quiet but undeniable. You can’t help it. You’re burning for him, every inch of your body craving his touch. “Ruben,” you breathe against his lips, voice thick with impatience. You want him, need him, and you can’t wait anymore.

He pulls back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Patience," he murmurs.

You shake your head, frustration mixing with desire. “I can’t. Please...” The words barely make it out before you’re kissing him again, harder this time, desperate for more.

The layers of clothes still left between you seem to vanish, almost without thought. It’s frantic but tender, your undergarments are now tangled up in the bedsheet, forgotten as you both move with a desperation that matches the intensity of the kiss. His body is pressed against yours again, both of you shivering, not from the cold, but from the need, the desire.

There’s a quiet moment when everything slows, and Ruben finally enters you, right when the rush of your heartbeats begins to sync with his. You’re finally with him in every way you’ve wanted all night. The space between you is gone, and you feel the weight of his cock settle deep in you, like everything is exactly where it should be. His hands trace the curves of your body, holding you close, and you can’t help but feel a deep, overwhelming sense of fulfillment.

It’s not just the closeness, it’s knowing you’ve reached this place with him, that all the moments leading up to this have led to this perfect connection. The feeling of being his, of being his wife, settles over you in a way you can’t quite explain, but it feels like the missing piece of something you’ve been looking for your entire life.

The sweat on your skin feels... beautiful. It’s a sign of how deeply you’ve shared this moment. The heat of it doesn’t make you want to pull away – it makes you want to stay wrapped up in it, in him.

You can feel your pulse under his touch, the rise and fall of his breath against your neck, and everything feels so perfect, so right. This is what you always wanted, and it fills you up, leaving no room for anything else.

You feel whole in a way you never have before, like you’ve become the person you were always meant to be – his wife, his partner.

You move together in a rhythm that feels both slow and urgent, there’s a shared intensity between you both, a connection so deep that it feels like you’re no longer two separate people, but a single, intertwined whole. The world outside the villa fades to nothing as you lose yourselves in the moment.

His touch, gentle but firm, holds you closer, guiding you as you respond to him, the tension building, slow and steady. The way his lips brush against your skin, his breath quickening as you do the same, it all pulls you deeper into this shared space, where only the two of you exist.

Your bodies are a tangled mess of warmth and movement, a perfect harmony of wanting and giving, and you both reach the peak together. When it happens, it’s loud, the culmination of everything you’ve shared. Your heart races, and his matches the pace of yours, as you feel everything around you blur. His arms tighten around you, and you bury your face against him, trying to hold on to the moment, the feeling of being so completely and utterly present with him.

[judebellswife]

Fragile Hope — Ruben Dias

— pairing • ruben dias x leclerc!reader (charles twins)

— requested by anon (june 16, 2022)

— summary • You’ve been dating Ruben Dias for four years, and together you’re expecting your first child. Today is supposed to be the day you share the news with your brothers, Charles and Arthur Leclerc. But as you prepare for the moment, a sudden, familiar pain takes over. Your worst fear begins to unfold. In the chaos that follows, secrets from your past come to light, revealing a painful history your brothers never knew about.

— warning(s) • angst, mentions of past miscarriage, medical distress, fluff and comfort

You shifted nervously, your fingers brushing over the slight swell of your belly. At 12 weeks pregnant, the bump was barely noticeable, but to you, it felt like the entire world could see it. Today was supposed to be exciting—you were finally going to tell your brothers, Charles and Arthur, that they were going to be uncles. You had kept it quiet for long enough, wanting to wait until you felt certain that everything was okay.

Ruben, ever the calm presence, stood next to you, his hand lightly resting on your lower back. His eyes held that quiet confidence that made you feel safe no matter what. You loved him deeply for that, especially now. The two of you had been through so much over the past year, more than your brothers even knew.

"Are you sure you're ready?" Ruben asked, his voice soft, only for you.

You nodded, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, it’s time. They deserve to know."

Charles and Arthur were in the next room, talking animatedly about something related to the race weekend. They were in Monaco, which meant a family get-together. Normally, you loved these moments—your brothers were your best friends, your protectors—but today, your nerves were a mess.

"Come on," you whispered to Ruben, reaching for his hand. Together, you stepped into the living room where Charles and Arthur were lounging on the couch, half-watching TV.

"Hey, there she is!" Charles called, grinning up at you. His eyes flicked briefly to Ruben, giving him an approving nod. Your relationship with Ruben had been a point of concern for your brothers at first, but after four years, they had accepted him as family.

"You two finally done hiding away?" Arthur added with a smirk, raising an eyebrow. "You’ve been acting weird all day."

Your heart pounded in your chest. You could feel Ruben’s hand tighten slightly around yours as he stepped forward to offer some support.

"There’s something we want to tell you," Ruben said, his voice steady and calm, as always.

Charles and Arthur both turned fully toward you, their playful smiles fading into expressions of concern.

"Okay… what’s going on?" Charles asked, sitting up straighter. "Is everything alright?"

You swallowed hard. The words felt heavy on your tongue, but you forced them out. "I’m pregnant."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Arthur blinked, looking from you to Ruben, and then back to you. "Wait, what? Are you serious?"

Charles shot up from his seat, wide-eyed. "You’re pregnant?"

A wave of relief washed over you at their reactions. For a moment, the anxiety that had been building inside you dissipated, replaced by the warmth of your brothers’ excitement.

"Yes, I’m serious," you said, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Arthur let out a breathy laugh, coming over to hug you tightly. "That’s amazing, Y/N! I can’t believe you didn’t tell us sooner."

Charles followed suit, wrapping his arms around both you and Arthur. "Yeah, how long have you been keeping this a secret?" He shot Ruben a mock glare. "You’ve been hiding this from us too, huh?"

"We wanted to wait until we were sure everything was okay," Ruben explained, his arm gently sliding around your waist. "It’s still early."

You could see the worry begin to creep into your brothers' faces, especially Charles’. He had always been the most protective, never liking the idea of you facing anything difficult alone.

"We’ll be here for you," Charles said, his voice firm, though his eyes softened when they met yours. "Whatever you need."

Just as you were about to respond, a sharp pain shot through your lower abdomen, cutting off your words. You gasped, instinctively placing a hand on your stomach.

Ruben’s eyes were on you immediately, his expression shifting from joy to concern in an instant. "Y/N? Are you alright?"

You opened your mouth to answer, but another wave of pain hit, stronger this time. Your knees buckled slightly, and you clutched Ruben’s arm for support.

"Y/N, what’s wrong?" Charles asked, his voice rising with panic. Arthur was right beside him, both of them looking at you with wide, anxious eyes.

You tried to force a smile, but the pain was overwhelming. "It’s… it’s nothing. I’m fine," you lied, knowing it was futile. You could feel something wasn’t right.

Ruben’s face was pale, his hand moving to gently hold your stomach. "You’re not fine. What’s going on?"

Tears welled in your eyes as the fear you had been suppressing for so long surfaced. The pain was too familiar. You couldn’t ignore it anymore. Your heart pounded in your chest as the words you’d been dreading slipped out.

"I don’t want to lose this baby too," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

The room went still.

Charles and Arthur both froze, their expressions shifting from confusion to shock.

"What do you mean ‘too’?" Arthur asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You hadn’t wanted to tell them. You had promised yourself you’d keep that part of your past hidden, not wanting to burden your brothers with the pain you and Ruben had gone through. But now… now there was no hiding it.

"I lost a baby last year," you admitted, your voice shaking. "I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry."

Charles’ face drained of color, his hands shaking slightly as he stared at you, speechless. Arthur looked equally stunned, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to process what you’d just said.

"You… you lost a baby?" Charles whispered, his eyes filling with a mix of hurt and disbelief. "Why didn’t you tell us?"

Tears streamed down your face now as you shook your head. "I didn’t want to put that on you. You both have so much going on, and I didn’t want to make things harder."

Arthur’s face crumpled with emotion, his voice breaking. "Y/N, you’re our sister. You could never be a burden to us. We should’ve been there for you."

Before you could respond, a new wave of pain tore through you, and you felt something warm and wet between your legs. Panic seized your chest as you looked down, seeing a small trickle of blood.

"Ruben…" Your voice trembled as you clutched his arm tightly. "I think I’m bleeding."

Ruben’s face went pale, his eyes widening in horror. He didn’t waste a second before pulling out his phone and dialing for an ambulance, his voice urgent as he gave them the details.

Charles and Arthur were by your side in an instant, their panic palpable.

"You’re going to be okay," Arthur said, his voice shaky but determined. "We’re going to get you to the hospital."

Charles was pacing now, his hands shaking as he ran them through his hair. "This can’t be happening. Ruben, is she going to be okay?"

Ruben didn’t answer, his jaw clenched tightly as he held you close, his fingers trembling slightly as he stroked your hair.

Within minutes, the ambulance arrived, and you were rushed to the hospital. The entire ride, you clung to Ruben’s hand, your mind swirling with fear. You couldn’t lose this baby. Not again.

When you arrived at the hospital, the doctors moved quickly, assessing the situation. Ruben stayed close, refusing to leave your side for even a second.

Charles and Arthur sat in the waiting room, their expressions haunted as they waited for news, guilt and worry etched across their faces.

After what felt like an eternity, the doctor came out. "She’s stable for now. We’ll continue monitoring closely, but the baby is still viable."

The relief was overwhelming, but the fear lingered in all of you. This wasn’t over yet. But as you lay in the hospital bed, Ruben by your side, you knew that no matter what happened, you weren’t alone.

You had Ruben, your brothers, and now… a fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, this time things would be okay.

[nosugarallspice]

Can you write about Ruben Dias praising you while you give him a blowjob? 🙏

This hits 🤭

Minors DNI!!

Word Count: 184

~~

“You’re doing so good, baby.” Ruben moaned, his hand resting on the back of your head, pushing you down to take more of him in your mouth.

The tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, causing a gag to escape you, sending vibrations against him.

“Fuck, you take me so well.” The praise hit you straight in the core. You squeezed your thighs together. You stared up at him, his pretty brown eyes staring back at you.

“You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” He thrusted up, another gag escaped you. “Good girl.” You continued your movements, your hand reaching down to massage his balls.

You felt his cock twitch- which only meant one thing, his release was near. You hollow your cheeks, bobbing your head faster.

His head fell back against the couch cushion, groans leaving his lips. You didn’t stop until you felt the warmth of his cum on your tongue, swallowing every last bit.

He pulled you up from the floor. “You’re too good to me.” He smiled before kissing you.

“I know.” You smiled

[nemolfc]

𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧 - 𝐫𝐮́𝐛𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐬

• 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐦𝐞.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐟 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝, 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝.

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐩*𝐫𝐧.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐢 𝐚𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐥!

she parks her car in front of their shared home more than ready to surrender to slumber after the day she had at school, the thesis had been weighing in on her so much that she felt like it had been ages since she saw her boyfriend of five years, rúben dias — if she wasn’t busy he would be playing, and if he wasn’t playing, she would be busy, she lets out a soft sigh then makes her way up to the front door with her bag slung over her shoulder, she unlocks the door then steps inside to be met with the scent of a home cooked meal which elicited confusion, rúben wasn't meant to be home in an hour, she thinks before the sound of utensils interrupted her thoughts. " rúben? " she asks.

" in the kitchen gatinha " his deep voice sends a wave of relief through her body eliciting a soft smile across her lips, she places her bag on the ground before walking into the kitchen to be met with the sight of her boyfriend, her shirtless boyfriend standing on the stove, he turns around with a broad smile. " hi baby "

she saunters towards him with a tired smile, standing next to him to get a look at what he's cooking, " pastel de nata? " she asks with knitted brows, " am i missing something here? "

rúben chuckles then shakes his head, " no "

" then why are you making dinner? " she wonders with a confused tone.

" because .... " he trails off, tilting his head to press a tantalizingly leisure kiss on the side of her neck, smirking when a breathy moan escaped her lips, " i want to spoil my very very intelligent and sexy girlfriend "

" what did you do? " she giggles, hooking her digits under his chin to get him to look at her.

rúben bites his lower lip which in turn caused her to narrow her eyes at him. " rúben " she said softly.

" remember when you said i shouldn't spend my money on you? " he said, his eyes glinting with faux innocence.

she lowers her head, blowing a soft breath before replying. " yes "

" i may have rented a yacht for two weeks then a nice stay at a beach house in amadora ... " he said with a soft smile, " and i sorted it so you don't miss a day from school "

" rúben " she sighs, " i can't just abandon my thesis "

" i know you don't, but gatinha you've been working so hard " he said with a soft tone, " it's been killing me seeing you so worked up, so please " he pecks her lips, then rests his forehead on hers. " please let me spoil you, you know why i love spoiling you " he adds with a soft smirk.

" because you're a horny teenager " she giggles.

a hearty laugh escapes his lips, it wasn't a secret that rúben's stamina due to his career was high at times that she barely could keep up, he pressed a featherlight kiss on her cheek, " can you blame me? "

" alright, when do we leave? " she smiled.

" in four days " rúben grins, pecking her lips again. " i promise, it'll be fun "

" it better " she giggles.

they packed their belongings; in a matter of four days, they were at sailing through the beautiful coasts of the maldives, it was bright, quite sunny but just the perfect weather for them - they would spend their mornings swimming, eating then top their nights off the best way possible, until one night as they lay under the moonlight, rúben had decided to divulge what he'd been hiding the entire time, " gatinha? " he whispers, his digits trailing up and down her bare arm sending shivers down her spine. " i need to tell you something! "

she lifts her head up, meeting his gaze with a confused look. " what's wrong rúben? " she asks with a soft voice.

he sits up, she follows suit and looks at him, " gatinha, i have been holding this for eight months and it hasn't been easy " he murmurs.

she tilts her head, confusion still evident across her features. " ok "

suddenly, his hand reaches inside of his short pocket to retrieve a small box, " i ... " he begins with a shaky voice, " my mother gave me my vovó's ... my grandmother's ring " he said with a nervous chuckle before adding, " and -um- ... when i spoke to your father three weeks back, i'd told him what my intentions were and he gave me his blessings "

her brows shot up in surprise, " oh? "

he opens the box revealing a simple yet elegant vintage diamond ring the shone under the moonlight, her eyes widened at the ring; then she looks up at him, " rúben? "

" gatinha, these five years have been a blessing " he said with a soft smile, " through the ups and downs, you stayed by my side and did not relent "

" because i love you " she smiles.

" and i love you, that's why i don't want to wait any longer " he said with a soft tone, " gatinha, you have been the light of my life throughout every moment, the good, the bad and everything in between and for that - i want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you so ... " he swallows the lump in his throat, " will you make me the happiest man in the world by marrying me? "

a broad smile adorns her lips, her eyes brimming with tears as she nodded just as he slipped the ring in her father; the pair exchanged a soft tender kiss that had instantly deepened when he pulled her into his embrace, " gatinha " he groans against her lips.

she knew from the tone of his voice, smiling against his lips she pushed him onto the soft mattress laid out on the yacht, then she climbed up on top of him, she leans down to trail soft kisses across the curvature of his neck, " what do you need meu príncipe? " she whispers in his ear.

he murmurs as a strangled moan escapes his lips, " need to feel your lips around my cock, por favor gatinha "

giggling at his request, she reaches over to untie the dress then loosen the material to hoist it over her head leaving her in just the bikini she was clad in - she leaned down to press feather light kisses across his bare chest eliciting soft breathy moans from his lips that shifted into a hiss the moment he felt the material of his short being pulled down allowing the cool air collide with the sensitive skin of his cock, " gatinha " he moans, " por favor "

her dainty hand wraps around the skin; then her lips followed, wrapping around the tip which in turn caused him to groan, " fuck " the shift in his tone sent shivers rolling down to her pussy, leisurely she takes more and more of his cock until the tip hits" the back of her throat, causing his hips to involuntary thrust forward, " yes ... gatinha, just like that " he sighs, his digits tugging her hair in response to the way her tongue traced every veins on his cock.

the combination of the cool air around them, the moonlight shining over them; the sounds he made, were enough to send her over the edge, her lazy strokes grew rapid in pace and in turn, so did the sounds escaping his lips, " gatinha, uma menina tão boa ... keep going, taking my cock so well in your mouth " he sighs, running his digits through her hair.

her movements shifted from gentle and leisure to rapid and sloppy, his breaths grew labored; before he could even make sense of things, his cock twitched inside her mouth, releasing warm ropes of arousal seeping down her throat, she continued to bop her head up and down, lapping up every drop until she pulled back to crawl up and kiss him passionately, " rúben " she whispers, deepening the kiss.

he understood what she meant, his hands reaching over to untie the bikini top, discarding it near the dress followed by the bottoms before she situated herself on top of him, his cock disappears into her slick walls, eliciting a unanimous sigh from the two of them, his hands grip her waist to allow her to adjust to his size, " gatinha " he murmurs, as his hands crawl up to knead and toy with her breasts, eliciting a whine from her. " come on menina querida, show me how much you love this cock " he cooed.

she nods with a lazy smile, placing both of her palms flat against his chest to lever herself as she started to thrust up and down his cock, both of them releasing labored breaths coupled with soft moans, her lips part softly allowing him to insert two digits inside eliciting a muffled moan from her, her gaze locks with his as her tongue rolls around his index and middle digit resulting in him thrusting forward to meet the rhythmic pace she set, " so good to me gatinha " he sighs, " keep going, i'm close "

the delicious friction of their thrusts coupled with the warmth enveloping them was all they needed to chase their highs together, an obscenely loud cry escapes her lips that was quickly swallowed by his lips, he wrapped one arm around her waist while his other hand landed directly over her one of her breasts, " you're such a good girl gatinha " he murmurs over her lips, deepening the kiss before his head tilts to trails soft lips over her her throat. " you don't know just how much you mean to me " he grinds his hips against hers lazily, matching the rhythm of his kisses. " i can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you "

their lips meet once again as a breathy moan escapes her lips, " me too amor, me too "

he pulls back and smirks, " do you know what that means? " his hips thrust once more.

she sighs, " what? " she whispers.

he thrusts again, moaning softly. " i'm going to spoil you as much as i want, so you don't get to say no if i buy you a dress, or if we go on a lingerie shopping trip so i can fuck you in that dressing room, if i come back with gifts, you'll proudly wear them while my cock is buried deep inside that -fuck- " he groans, " that amazing pussy, so ... you have no choice "

she giggles lazily, " i guess i don't have a choice when it comes to your love "

he grins, " my love is as big as the ocean " he pauses before playfully adding, " and as big as the cock you're taking "

[fcbooblona]

Sexy Surprise - Rúben Dias

Where reader got her nipples pierced to surprise Ruben.

Author’s note: Hey guys! It’s been 6 years since I’ve last written something and I’m slowly getting back into this world🙂‍↕️ Also, english is my second language, so please be gentle 🫶

I’m totally on for requests and other stuff envolving football! Have a good reading🩷

tw: smut

It was a friday afternoon and you had nothing to do, Ruben left early for training and after doing all of the house chores, boredom took over the place. Feeling bored was one of the things you hated the most, because it allowed your thoughts to go through spirals of random things and it usually ended it up with you wanting to do something crazy.

Which is exactly what happened today.

After getting out of the couch, you decided to take a shower, wanting to feel more refreshed. In the meantime, between taking off your clothes and preparing everything, you stood before the large mirror in your closet, looking at your naked body. You’ve always felt comfortable with how your body is, but now…it seems like something’s missing.

With that thought in your head, you went to the bathroom to take a shower and think about what you could do to change your body just a little bit, when an idea snapped into your head. A couple of days ago, during lunch, your friend told you about how she got her nipples pierced and how it increased her self esteem, and, of course, how things got even more heated in the bedroom. That was exactly what you wanted, a boost to your self esteem that would also work as something to make the sex even better, since Rúben was already obsessed with your boobs, complimenting them every single time you had sex.

You finished the shower and went straight to your phone, searching for the perfect body piercer to do the job. Luckily, you found a good one and booked your appointment for the same day, at 4pm. Since you already have a couple of piercings, the pain was totally manageable and you were super happy about it, getting home really fast, excited to show Rúben the surprise.

It was already 7pm when your boyfriend arrived, finding you in the kitchen, making dinner in just a white tank top and a pair of his sweatpants. For him, this was the paradise. He went behind you to hug your waist with his strong arms, making you jump a little bit, since you haven’t heard anything, and started to kiss your neck.

- Hi, Ruben. I’ve missed you so much. - you said while he sucked on your sweet spot.

- Hi, amor. - he lifted his head to look at what you were cooking. - Is it my favorite pasta? - the smile on his face grew even more.

- Yes, baby, it is. But you have to take a shower first, I can still smell the grass. - you laughed while he pouted.

- You’re mean. - he said on the way to the bathroom.

You finished dinner and started to set the table ready, waiting for Rúben to finish his 1-million-hours-long shower. When he emerged into the kitchen, smelling heavenly, you were already sat on the table, where he joined you and the two of you started to eat dinner and talk about the day. You noticed that your boyfriend’s eyes were navigating between your face and your boobs, probably wondering if something changed, but you kept talking as if nothing happened and he didn’t comment or anything.

Later, you two were laying on the sofa, cuddling and watching some random stuff on tv, when you felt his hands on your waist and some featherlight kisses on your jaw, your turned your face and met his lips, kissing him with passion and soon straddling his lap, turning the innocent kisses into a heated make-out session. His hands were traveling your whole body and quickly found the hem of your shirt, lifting it up to find your perky nipples, adorned by cute metal pieces. When he finally saw it, his brain couldn’t think straight, amazed by the view, the only thing he were able to do were press kisses all over your boob, while saying how pretty you looked.

- I can’t believe you found a way to be even sexier - he said in disbelief, while you tried to hold your moans.

Things got even hotter and now you were practically begging for him to make you cum on his dick, so you reached his pants and grabbed it, stroking it slowly.

- I wanna ride you, Rubes. - you said with puppy eyes.

- I’m all yours, gatinha. - he answered you, knowing how you get even hornier when he speaks portuguese.

You freed his dick completely and took off your pants, aligning it with you entrance, the both of you moaning while you were adjusting to his size, and soon you started to rock your hips back and forth, causing him to groan.

- You look so good riding my dick, baby - he said, almost breathless.

After some time of riding, and being ridiculously horny, you started to feel the pressure building up on your lower stomach, indicating that you were close. You could feel that Rúben was also almost there, since his dick was throbbing non-stop while inside of you. He kept kissing your body, focused on your pierced nipples, obviously, and massaging your clit, while you couldn’t stop moaning.

- Fuck, Rúben, I’m gonna cum - you said, breathlessly

- Cum with me, amor - he said and started to thrust up, finding your body in the middle of the way.

After a couple of seconds, you finally came, releasing your liquids all over your boyfriend, who followed you and filled you up with his cum. The both of you stood there, panting, hugging each other and recovering from everything you’ve done.

- I love you so much, baby - Rúben said to you, while your head was buried in the crook of his neck. You smiled against his skin and lifted you head up.

- I love you too, Rubes. - you kissed his lips.

- And before I forget to say it, I. love. your. boobs. - he said, pressing a kiss on each one of your pierced nipples between the words.

I really hope you guys enjoy it and I will appreciate so much if you comment! 🩷

[the-offside-rule]

Ruben Dias (Manchester City) - Test

Requested: yes

Prompt: 4) Taking a pregnancy test

Baby Prompts

Y/n sat in the empty bathtub, her legs tucked underneath her as she stared at the little plastic stick on the edge of the sink. Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure it could be heard in the next room. The seconds seemed to drag on, each one heavier with anticipation than the last. Ruben leaned against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest in a pose that might have seemed relaxed to an outsider, but Y/n knew him well enough to see the tension in his shoulders, the tightness around his mouth. He was nervous, too.

"How much longer?" She asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. Ruben glanced at his watch, then back at her. "Another minute or so." He said softly. He pushed himself off the counter and came to kneel beside the bathtub, taking her hand in his. "Whatever happens, we're in this together." Y/n squeezed his hand tightly, grateful for his presence. "I know." She said. "It's just- it's so scary."

He nodded, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead. "I know it is, but we'll handle it. Whether the test is positive or negative, we'll figure it out. Together." She looked into his eyes, finding strength in the calm reassurance she saw there. "Thank you." She murmured. The timer on Ruben's phone beeped, making them both jump. He looked at her, his expression a mix of hope and fear. "Ready?" Y/n took a deep breath and nodded. "Let's see."

Ruben reached over and picked up the test, holding it so they could both see the result. There, clear as day, was a little plus sign. Y/n felt her breath catch in her throat, her eyes filling with tears. "We're- we're having a baby?" She whispered. Ruben's face broke into a wide grin, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her close. "We're having a baby." He repeated, his voice full of wonder and joy. She clung to him, letting the tears fall freely now, a mix of relief, happiness, and a little bit of lingering fear. But as she felt Ruben's strong arms around her, she knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together.

"I love you." She said, her voice muffled against his chest. "I love you too." He replied, kissing the top of her head. "And I already love our little one." They stayed like that for a long time, holding each other, letting the reality of their new future sink in. The uncertainty was still there, but so was the unwavering support they had in each other.

[zoyasribbon]

DOMESTIC DELIGHTS — r. dias

ೃ࿐ summary : The moments spent with your family, they are the most precious in your life, a pure delight that bring solace to your soul. And on this specific Sunday afternoon, this one, you are poised to savor every bit of it.

ೃ࿐ words : 0,7k.

ೃ࿐ genre : mature. fluff. suggestive.

ೃ࿐ warning : cute daughter-father moments, sexual tension.

ೃ࿐ author's note : Despite my deep disdain for Man City (while I do acknowledge Pep's genius football philosophy), I must confess—I find myself particularly attracted to some players... and a certain 6’2 Portuguese center-back has managed to steal my heart. Ugh, what can I sayyyyy, what can I sayyyyy.

You were drawn by the soft, deep chuckles emitted by your husband, guiding you towards the entrance of the living room, where you discreetly pushed the door ajar. 

There he was.

Rúben. 

Dressed in his black Puma sweatpants and a simple, white undershirt, he was doing push-ups with your little daughter perched on his broad, muscular back. Her cheerful, high-pitched voice counted his progress as he effortlessly raised and lowered his body multiple times. You observed them tenderly: the pure joy and trust of your child blending with Rúben's extraordinary strength and patience. Home.

If he noticed you leaning against the doorframe, he said nothing... and you couldn’t help but admire his new three-day stubble beard, a bit more developed than usual, complementing his charming face. 

Suddenly, he twisted to one side, landing on the floor while effortlessly lifting your excited little girl with his sturdy arms before gently placing her on his firm stomach. A timid chuckle escaped your lips at this heartwarming sight. But this gesture didn't deter him from maintaining a somewhat intense gaze that met yours, igniting a fire within you.

"Go play in the garden, princesa. I'll do a few more and then join you," he murmured, planting a tender kiss on her forehead. As his words prompted her to dash out of the room, flashing you a mischievous smile in passing, the room fell into an almost oppressive silence. Only Rúben's erratic breathing and the sudden accelerated beats of your heart seemed to animate the space. 

He eventually raised himself from the floor, taking his sweet time to stand, his brown eyes never leaving your burning gaze for a second. 

Rúben's smile took on a different shade as he crossed the room to approach you, leaving only a few brief inches between you. His arms, marked by the effort, found support on the wooden doorframe, not far from your head, asserting his dominance in height. 

In the depth of his gaze, you discerned the glint of a tantalizing promise.

"You didn't have to stop, you know?" you innocently scolded, letting your right hand wander from his neck, to his left flank and to his hip. You made sure your nails lightly grazed his skin through the thin white fabric, intending for him to feel your provocation. As you did, you sensed a trickle of sweat dampening his shirt, clinging to his still-toned abs, evidence of his numerous push-ups. 

In just a few seconds, his body responded. Engulfed in goosebumps that hinted at desire, Rúben's eyelids trembled, and his Adam's apple bobbed. Though your line of sight didn't reveal it, you were certain that his fingers fervently clutched the doorframe, evidenced by the emerging veins on his glistening shoulders. 

He was on the verge of losing control. The mere thought elevated the corner of your lips into a sly smile, concealing the pleasure you took in this little teasing game. You must admit, you were very in the mood to play today. After all, Rúben simply had no business being so sexy on this delightful spring afternoon. 

Your right hand, still placed on his hip, dared to venture even further beneath the fabric of his black tracksuit to bring him even more closer to you and explore the skin of his lower back and his firm bottom, leading him to open his mouth slightly, letting out a timid gasp. 

Unable to resist the excruciating slowness of your caresses, he leaned forward, daring “Why? Do you want to keep watching?” he managed to inquire with an innocent tone, though mischief lingered within. 

His alluring, plump lips so close to yours beckoned, yet you resisted the temptation they promised... at least for the moment. You knew what he expected from you at this moment, but you just wouldn't comply. You were far too determined to win this battle. 

Nevertheless, the warm breath escaping his mouth was enough to slightly distract you. In that moment, you even forgot your somewhat disheveled appearance—your hair was in a messy bun, and you still had your apron on, still warm from the breath of the oven you had opened to check the crumb-topped salmon you were preparing. 

This seemed not to bother Rúben, whose gaze remained just as fiery and thirsty. His fingers sought revenge, gently sweeping aside a loose strand of hair that had fallen during your observation, trailing across your cheek, your neck, before finally resting on your nape. Then his entire hand delicately settled upon it. Your eyes were nearly completely mesmerized by the movement of his lips. Ruben's voice became huskier and smoother. “Or maybe you want a turn too."

[footballffbarbiex]

player: Rúben Dias type: smut words: 1k+ warnings: hand jobs, tiddy sucking, light dirty talk

a/n: ok so while I was looking through the Dias tag for a pic of him for something, I saw this ask and it's fuelled this. thank you @yutofia for the inspiration and letting me adapt your interaction! (I realise that hers wasn't the only one sent and written but it was the first one that I'd seen)

_

you'd known the effect it would have on him the moment the soft fabric fell into place on your body. you'd wanted a summer dress like it for a while and when your fingers had danced along the racks of clothing in the store until they'd landed on this, the very last one in your size, it had seemed like fate. not only was it the perfect length but it hugged all the right places and still remained flowing for the other places.

Rúben had seemed incapable of keeping his hands off you as the evening ticked by and even though you'd left the villa wearing underwear, you'd been requested to remove these during dinner and they were now tucked into his back pocket. you listened with little interest as he made small talk with his friends before everyone was retiring to their rooms. your attention and thoughts fully on his fingers stroking over your ass, down to the hem of the skirt and gently caressed the skin at the top of your thigh before going back up to your waist and beginning the journey back down again.

he made it look so casual, a simple absentminded touch that no-one would think anything of but it was beginning to drive you crazy and keeping your features in check was proving more difficult with each passing exchange between each touch.

and yet, despite the way you craved him, you'd held your composure and hadn't jumped him the second the door had closed. you'd busied yourself, pretending that what he'd just done hadn't had the effect on you that the two of you knew perfectly well had been had.

Rúben sits patiently watching you from the sofa, his eyes never leave your body as you move. but as patient as Rúben is, he can't stay still for too long and his patience only lasts so long. "are you going to come over here or do I need to beg?"

"I don't think I've ever known you to beg," you tell him as you finish lighting some candles for a spot of ambience.

by the time you look back at him, there's a tent pitching at his waist and a look on his face that you can't ignore. "what's wrong Rúbe?"

"nothing,"

"no?" you push him for an answer, your voice dropping low and dare you even say sultry. you hum a little as you climb onto his lap and his hands reach your waist, thumbs stroking over as much area as they possibly can.

"no." he says with as much certainty as he can.

"no?" you try again as your hand drops to your lap and though you barely grasp him through his clothing, you do swipe your thumb over the head of his cock and he groans. "I thought maybe you wanted something." you mutter to yourself as you peer down between your bodies, noting out of your peripheral vision the way his chest rises and falls a little faster than normal as your hand wraps around his shaft and squeezes just enough to feel him throb against your palm.

"I don't know what gave you tha-mmmmm, fuck" he groans and you feel his hips move beneath you as you dip you hand into his bottoms. he feels warm and thick in your grip and as much as you'd love to slip between his thighs, sink to your knees and use your mouth on him, you begin to stroke him, slow and steady in an even rhythm.

"you did." when you finally look up, he leans forward, trying to capture your lips with his own. a look of confusion twists across his features as you pull away and shake your head. "oh baby no. you thought you could tease me while we were out and that you could get your own way?" you ask him and frown at him as you shake your head. "that's not how this works."

with your free hand, you tug down the sleeves enough to be able pull the front of your dress down without resistance, exposing your boobs enough for your nipple to become visible. "if you want me to be good to you, you need to apologise." you say quietly, trying to hold back the smirk that threatens to twist the corner of your mouth upwards as he gets the message loud and clear. his hair brushes against your shoulder as his mouth searches for your nipple, his tongue eagerly swiping out and wets it.

you arch your back, allowing him slightly better access while enabling you to keep your hand stroking up and down. the buttery soft skin of his shaft glides through your fist as you near the velvety head and once there, you swirl and twist your hand over the head, stimulating the nerves there before dragging your hand back down again.

Rúben whines, the sound of it vibrating against your skin and directly onto your pebbled nipple. the longer he drags out the moan, his teeth close around your tight bud and his facial hair scrapes over your skin making you hum from the sensation. "that's it baby, let me know how good this feels for you."

the hand which isn't stroking his cock reaches up and runs the fingers through his short hair, occasionally tugging on the short strands just to make him growl and look up at you. had his fingers been deep within your pussy, he'd have made a comment about feeling you throb. even without his fingers inside you to make a mess between your thighs, you're certain that you'll be climbing from him and leaving a wet patch on his clothing.

"God I love that the closer you are to cumming, the harder and faster you suck. you give yourself away too easily baby," you mock. "maybe I should slow down," you comment and deliberately slow your pace, "or stop altogether."

"don't," Rúben's hand wraps around yours, covering it in it's entirety and forces your hand to resume the rhythm that you'd previously set. he keeps his eyes locked with yours as his tongue swirls and flicks over your nipple in ways that he would had his face been between your thighs. he knows this and so do you. the slight smirk that appears as your eyelids grow heavy as lust consumes you makes you grind your ass into his lap.

"some apology this is," you feign a huff and his smirk turns into a grin.

"you're enjoying yourself, don't lie." he says quietly, his mouth fully away from your skin unlike previous attempts at speaking where your breast would still be within lip distance. he pulls his gaze from you momentarily and lightly blows cold air over your wet skin, making your areola pucker tightly, your nipple to tingle which in turn triggers your core to clench hopelessly around nothing and the cold sensation to do exactly what he intended by making you whine a little.

"ah, ah." he says, shaking his head with disapproval. "denying it will get you nowhere. you've already been teased enough tonight which is why you're making such a song and dance about this. now, i can think of much worse ways to spend my evening than having my cock stroked while sucking on your nipples, but what I really want is to be able to go down on you, maybe give you one or two orgasms and then fuck you. so you have two choices, we can sit here, teasing each other for however long for whatever reason, or you can lay on the sofa here and let me fin-" he didn't need to finish his sentence. you'd heard enough.

your hands pull up your skirt as you climb from his lap, pulling up the fabric until it rides high on your hips and your pussy is exposed as your legs fall open.

"that, was the right answer."

[leviscolwill]

rúben blurb — #1

you can all thank dilara for rotting my brain with dad!ruben thoughts, also i think this singlehandedly cured my parents issues

you hated loosing your patience with your daughter, but tatiana drawing on her bedroom wall was your last straw after a long day of terrible news. you always felt awful for screaming at her, especially after the big brown eyes she got from her father welled up with tears.

you let her stay with rúben while you tried to distract yourself with grocery shopping. when you opened your front door still guilty about the whole screaming fit, your house was nothing like when you left it. it was now filled with laughter and a divine smell was luring you to the kitchen. but before you could take a step inside and find out the object of your craving, rúben's tall figure blocked the entry.

“no, no. you take a seat, i have a special chef cooking something for you.” he added a little wink, a silent ‘don't worry, i got this’. you sat down waiting for your little surprise, that revealed itself soon enough, in the shape of a lovely 6 year old girl covered in flour, her tiny hands full of a big plate of pancakes.

“i'm sorry mommy, i didn't want to make you mad.” her little voice, made you forget about every other trivial matters of today. you immediately took tati on your lap, and stroked her hair.

“i wasn't mad at you meu anjo (my angel), mommy just had a bad day. i shouldn't have screamed at you, i'm sorry tati.” you covered your daughter's face and hair of little kisses when rúben joined you two and placed a kiss on both your heads, before taking a seat next to you.

“did you cook these by yourself baby?” you asked to your daughter pointing at the perfect pancakes, she laughed a bit and shook her head.

“no daddy helped me, but i cracked the eggs myself!”

“did you now? i'm so proud of you my little chef, you might have to replace daddy soon.” you knew tatiana was over the moon with the little tasks that were handed to her, and you took the opportunity to tease your husband as well.

his large, flour covered, hand, squeezed your cheeks together, “i'll always be my girls' chef, but i can take a little rat under my hat.”

[httpsdana]

can you do a Ruben fic where his fiancée (reader) gets him another dog for Christmas. Ik it’s late bc it’s past Christmas but happy new year 😭😭

New Addition~Rúben Dias

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

・❥・a/n: had to write this before new year. merry christmas everyone <3

The house was quiet, save for the soft crackling of the fireplace and the occasional jingle of Simba’s collar as he shifted in his spot near the Christmas tree.

Rain gently fell outside while the tree’s twinkling lights cast a warm ambiance over the living room.

y/n sat cross-legged on the plush rug, a tiny brown puppy nestled in her lap. Its dark eyes blinked curiously up at her as she tied a small red bow around its neck.

Simba, the white-furred guardian of the house, looked on from his perch by the fire, his tail wagging lazily. He seemed unimpressed by the newcomer but content enough to observe from a distance.

Rúben had left the house earlier that morning after the two of them had exchanged gifts.

She still wore the delicate gold bracelet he had given her, the small charm glinting in the firelight. But as thoughtful as his gift had been, she was certain her surprise would top it.

The sound of the front door opening pulled her from her thoughts. Simba perked up instantly, darting toward the door with a joyful bark.

“Simba! Meu menino,” Rúben’s familiar voice echoed from the entryway, warm and full of affection. (my boy)

She heard the shuffle of his boots being kicked off and the rustle of his coat before he appeared in the living room.

She quickly placed the puppy down in it's hiding spot, making sure it doesn't run away.

Rúben's cheeks were flushed from the cold, his dark hair slightly damp from the rain.

“You’re back,” she said, rising to her feet. Her tone was casual, but her heart was pounding in anticipation.

Rúben smiled as he stepped toward her, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her temple. “I’m back,” he murmured, his arms wrapping briefly around her waist.

His gaze flicked to the tree and the scattered wrapping paper left over from their earlier gift exchange. “Did you decide to open something else while I was gone?”

“Not quite,” she said, unable to keep the mischievous smile off her face. “I actually have another gift for you.”

His brows lifted in surprise. “Another gift? I thought we exchanged everything this morning, meu amor.”

“This one’s… different,” she said softly. “Sit down and close your eyes.”

He gave her a skeptical look but complied, settling onto the couch with Simba immediately hopping up beside him. “I feel like you’re up to something,” he teased, though his tone was light.

Ignoring his comment, she carefully picked up the puppy from its hiding spot, its small body squirming in her hands. She walked over to Rúben, her breath catching as she placed the tiny bundle in his lap.

“Okay,” she whispered. “You can open your eyes now.”

When Rúben’s eyes fluttered open, his expression went from confusion to wonder in an instant. He stared down at the little puppy, his lips parting slightly as he processed what he was holding.

“amor…” His voice was barely above a whisper. “You… got us a puppy?”

She knelt beside him, her heart swelling at the emotion in his voice. “i did” she said

“I thought Simba could use a little friend. And… maybe this could be the start of something bigger for us. Our family.”

Rúben’s gaze lifted to meet hers, his brown eyes shimmering with emotion. “You… you’re incredible,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “This might be the best gift anyone’s ever given me.”

The puppy let out a small yip, capturing his attention again. Simba, not wanting to be left out, nosed his way into Rúben’s lap, sniffing the new arrival. His wagging tail gave away his approval.

Rúben laughed softly, gently running his hand over the puppy’s tiny head. “Welcome to the family, little one,” he murmured, then looked at Simba. “And you, meu menino, you’ll help teach it the rules, won’t you?”

Simba barked once, a sound that seemed to say, I’ve got this.

As the fire burned low and the rain continued to fall outside, Rúben sat on the floor with both dogs curled up against him. He looked at his fiancée, his expression soft and full of gratitude.

“This is everything,” he said quietly, reaching for her hand. “You, Simba, and now…” He glanced at the puppy, a smile tugging at his lips. “Our little family.”

She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder as her fingers intertwined with his. “It’s just the beginning,” she said softly, her heart full.

my taglist: @barcapix @paucubarsisimp @spidybaby @mxryxmfooty @n0vazsq @joaosnovia @ilovebarcaaa (lmk if you want to be added!!)

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

sympathy for the devil | ruben dias

🩸 synopsis: You've been working at your childhood dream club, Manchester United, for a few years, but the reality of chaos, mess, and constant changes is taking its toll. Lately, you’ve been finding comfort in an unexpected place – Rúben Dias, a player from your club's biggest rival. tags: established situationship, rivals-to-lovers, mention of smoking, sports drama, arguing, mutual pining. (written in 2nd person but no mention of yn) (around 3.3k words)

part 1

You slip out of the locker room the moment you can, making a shitty excuse. No one questions you – they’re all too wrapped up in the post-match high, riding the wave of a rare, dominant performance. You should be celebrating, but instead, there’s this sense of dread clawing at your gut.

You’ve been here a few years, but it feels like you’ve lived a lifetime of disappointment, false promises, and crushed hopes.

How many times can you start over before it breaks you?

You step outside, the heavy stadium door swinging shut behind you with a dull thud. It’s cold – November in Manchester always is – but you barely feel the chill as you fish a crumpled pack of cigarettes from your coat pocket. Your hands are shaking a little, either from the leftover adrenaline of the match or the exhaustion that’s been creeping in at the edges of your thoughts for months.

Your lighter flares, a small circle of warmth in the dark, and you inhale deeply, the nicotine sharp and bitter on your tongue. It doesn’t really calm you, but it’s something to do. A familiar habit, a routine that hasn’t changed even when everything else has. You lean back against the rough brick wall, your shoulders sagging, and close your eyes.

They’re all talking about him – the new guy. The Portuguese manager who’s exactly what the board thinks they need to clean up the mess. You’ve seen this cycle before. Another savior, another man with a plan. You’ve learned not to get too attached, not to trust the optimism that comes with each “new era.” You’re tired of being yanked along, like a hamster on a wheel, running in circles while everything around you stays the same.

You take another drag, feeling the smoke burn in your throat. It’s all physiological, you tell yourself. The anxiety, the repetition. It’s just your mind playing tricks on you. But it doesn’t change the fact that this new manager freaks you out. You’re not even sure why, maybe it’s because you know how these things go, or maybe it’s because there’s a chance you won’t even make it to the end of the season with your job intact.

High chances you won’t, if he decides to only work with his own people. Your role’s not exactly critical, and even if you’ve been here for years, that doesn’t make you untouchable. You’ve worked hard, you’ve kept your head down, you’ve given everything you had to this club, but it might not be enough. It never seems to be enough.

You flick ash off the cigarette, eyes unfocused as you stare out over the parking lot, empty except for a few scattered cars. Somewhere deep inside, there’s a tiny bit of relief at the win, but it’s buried under layers of exhaustion and anxiety.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, but you ignore it. It’s probably Ruben, your Ruben, the one you should have nothing to do with. You’ll deal with that later. Right now, all you want is five more minutes of peace before you have to go back in, put on a smile, and pretend like you’re ready for whatever comes next.

Because Monday’s coming fast, and you know what that means – another fresh start. Another clean slate. Another spin on the wheel.

You stub out your cigarette on the concrete and crush the butt beneath your heel, exhaling one last cloud of smoke.

part 2

You show up at his place later than planned, you told yourself you wouldn’t let work bleed into this, but it’s impossible not to carry it with you. You know you’re dragging that weight into Ruben’s apartment the moment you cross the threshold.

You toss your bag next to the door and kick off your shoes, feeling the tension in your muscles. The sight of him, the comfort of his place – it should feel like a break from the chaos, but tonight it doesn’t.

You exchange a quick greeting, the kind that’s little more than habit by now, and settle next to him on the couch. It’s not awkward exactly, but there’s a distance between you tonight. He looks tired – more tired than you’ve seen him in a long time. 

“Hey,” you say, nudging his knee with yours, trying to draw out something, anything. “How’s the leg?”

He shrugs, not taking his eyes off his phone. “Better,” he says. “Physio says I’ll be fine in a couple weeks.”

That’s all you get. No sarcastic comment, no playful complaint about how much he hates sitting out. He just goes back to scrolling, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You were expecting him to be in a mood – City’s been struggling lately, and the timing of his injury couldn’t be worse. But still, it’s strange, the way he’s shut down. You fall back into the cushions and pull out your own phone, scrolling through Instagram.

When this started a year ago, it was never like this – there was no room for awkward silence or distractions. It was just heat and hands, tearing at each other like you couldn’t get enough. Now, there’s a lot more of this – just spending time together, filling the quiet with the small, mundane things.

Most of the time, you don’t mind. Most of the time, it’s kind of nice, this understanding you’ve built. But tonight, you feel like the air’s too thick, and it’s bothering you. You scroll aimlessly, barely paying attention to what you’re seeing, and it’s only when you hear the soft thud of his phone dropping onto the couch that you look up.

He’s staring at you, his brows drawn together in frustration, like he’s been holding back for as long as he can. “Have you been smoking again?” he asks suddenly, and the question catches you off guard.

Your stomach twists, but you keep your expression blank, fingers still moving on the screen as if you didn’t hear him. “And what does that have to do with you?” you ask, voice flat and dismissive, not even bothering to look up.

It’s a low blow, and you know it. But you’re not in the mood to be called out, not by him, not tonight. He’s watching you from the other side of the couch, jaw clenched, eyes narrowed in that way that tells you he’s annoyed but trying to keep a lid on it. You don’t bite. Instead, you scroll past another filtered photo of someone’s perfect life.

“What does it have to do with me?” he echoes, his voice low and tense. “Maybe because you said you were done with that. Maybe because it’s not good for you.”

You still don’t look up. It’s not that you don’t care; part of you does. He just doesn’t get it. Nobody does. The exhaustion, the stress of working at a club that feels like it’s constantly collapsing in on itself. It’s just a cigarette. It’s not like it’s going to fix anything, but it’s something. One small moment of control when everything else is spiraling.

“Yeah, well,” you mutter, tapping aimlessly through stories you don’t even care about, “things change.”

He sighs, and you hear the frustration in that exhale with the way it rushes out of him. He shifts on the couch, one knee pressing into the cushion, body leaning closer. “You’re just going to ignore me?”

You finally look up, locking eyes with him, and it’s like you’re seeing him clearly for the first time all night. There’s a heat behind his eyes that you’ve seen a hundred times before, but this time a bit different. Angrier. More desperate. You almost want to ask him why he cares so much, but you know the answer would be another fight.

He’s never been good at hiding his feelings, not when he’s like this, wounded in ways he doesn’t want to show. It’s not just his injury, or the losses, or the fact that he’s benched while everyone else heads off for international break. It’s all of it, pressing down on him like the weight of a season that’s already going wrong, even though it’s barely November.

“What’s going on with you?” you ask, more to break the silence than because you really want to know. It comes out sharper than you mean it to, and you see the way his expression shutters, defenses slamming back into place.

“What’s going on with me?” He lets out a harsh laugh, running a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots. “What’s going on with you? It’s like you’re not even here anymore. We barely talk unless it’s about–” He stops himself, cutting off whatever he was about to say.

“Unless it’s about what?” you snap, putting your phone down. It’s an instinct, this need to go on the offensive before he can twist the knife any deeper. “About football? About how fucked up everything is at my job? Or about how you get to sit around feeling sorry for yourself because your team is losing for once?”

The second the words are out, you regret them. You can see the hurt flash in his eyes, quick as a blink but unmistakable. You’ve seen him pissed off before, plenty of times, but not like this.

He nods slowly, like he’s forcing himself to accept what you’ve just thrown at him. “Wow,” he says, his voice low and dangerous, “I didn’t realize we were keeping score.”

“It’s not about that,” you say quickly, too quickly, the words tripping over themselves as you try to reel them back. “I’m just–fuck, I don’t know. I’m tired, Ruben. I’m so tired of everything.”

He looks at you for a long time, his eyes searching, trying to figure out if you’re lying or if this is just another one of the walls you throw up when you don’t want to deal with the truth. You can almost see the moment he decides it’s not worth fighting. He leans back, sinking into the couch cushions, and picks up his phone without another word.

The silence stretches out between you, and this time it’s suffocating. You pick up your own phone, but the Instagram feed blurs in front of you. You can’t focus, can’t even remember what you were looking at before he interrupted. You’re both here, sitting less than two feet apart, but it’s like a wall has gone up between you, solid and impenetrable.

“I should leave,” you say, standing up and running a hand through your hair, trying to steady the tremble in your voice. “In fact, I shouldn’t come here when I’m in a bad mood.”

He doesn’t even look at you at first. Then, when he does, his eyes are full of –  it’s either anger or disappointment, maybe both. “That was never a problem before,” he says, each word adorned with a bitterness that catches you off guard. “But yeah, maybe you should leave.”

You don’t know what to say, so you don’t say anything. You just grab your bag from the floor, fingers clenching the strap so tight it’s a wonder the leather doesn’t tear. There’s a part of you that wants to drop the bag, to sit back down, to tell him you didn’t mean it – that you’re sorry, that you’re just so fucking tired of pretending that everything’s fine when it’s not. But you can’t. 

“I’ll call you,” you say, even though you both know it’s a lie. You can hear the emptiness in your own voice, and the way he laughs without any humor just twists the knife deeper.

“You won’t,” he says, his tone harsh, too raw, and you see the hurt behind it, the way he’s holding himself together by a thread. “But that’s fine.”

You hesitate, just for a second, standing there in the doorway with one hand on the knob, caught in that familiar push-and-pull of wanting to fix this and wanting to run away before you make it worse. He’s watching you, eyes unblinking, like he’s daring you to stay, and you hate him a little for that – hate him for caring when you don’t know how to anymore.

But you don’t stay. You close the door softly behind you, the click of the latch sounding too final in the quiet apartment. The weight of your bag feels heavier than it should as you make your way out into the cool night air, and you tell yourself you’ll call him tomorrow. You’ll apologize, explain, make it right. But the truth is, you don’t even know if you have the energy to try.

You know, deep down, that he’s right. You probably won’t call.

part 3

It hits you the next morning, sharp and sudden, like a punch to the gut. You wake up too early, tangled in your sheets, and the first thought that drags itself out of the haze is him. It shouldn't feel this intense, shouldn't have you wide-eyed and shivering before the sun’s even up.

But it does. It does, and the weight of it scares you.

Your whole body feels wrong, you skip breakfast, try to force down a cup of coffee, but it doesn’t help. Your stomach churns, and your skin prickles with a strange, feverish heat. You’re cold, so damn cold, but the sweat gathers at your temples and slicks your palms.

Emptiness settles in your chest as you go about your day, an ache that tightens every time your thoughts drift back to the night before. To the way he looked at you. And you hate yourself for it, hate that you need him, that your body is betraying you, craving something you can't let yourself want.

It's ridiculous. It's unbearable. It’s like you’re going through some sort of withdrawal. Just the thought of him – of his hands on you, his voice in your ear – sends a shudder down your spine, and you can’t even focus on the emails piling up in your inbox. You’re not used to this, not used to feeling so raw and exposed, and it makes you feel weak.

Lunch comes and goes, but you barely touch the food, staring blankly at your salad until you push it aside. Your appetite is gone, stolen away by the need that tightens your chest and messes with your breathing. You try to distract yourself, but it's like he's burned into the back of your eyes. Every other thought circles back to him, to the echo of his laugh, the feel of his fingers tracing patterns on your skin.

By mid-afternoon, you’re practically vibrating with it. The restlessness, the discomfort, the absence of him. You can feel it in your bones, this weird kind of panic that has your skin clammy and your hands shaking. It’s not normal, this kind of reaction, and it’s making you question everything you thought you knew about yourself.

What if you can’t stop feeling this way? What if this is just how it’s going to be now – this constant ache, this physical need that won’t let you breathe properly unless he’s there, grounding you?

You end up sneaking out early, your boss too busy with last-minute prep for the new manager to notice. You don’t know where you’re going, don’t have a plan. But your feet take you in the direction of his place anyway, like you’re on autopilot, the city blurring around you. Your phone buzzes with a message – something work-related, but you can’t even look at it.

All you can think is that you need him. You need him now.

part 4

You hesitate outside his door, you’re jittery, nerves buzzing under your skin, and your fingers hover over the wood, half-afraid to knock.

What if he doesn’t want to see you? What if he’s busy or worse – what if he’s not alone? You feel stupid for not calling ahead, for showing up unannounced like this. But it’s too late to turn back now. You take a deep breath and knock, your knuckles rapping against the door in a shaky rhythm.

Your heart is in your throat, the seconds ticking by in agonizing silence, and you wonder if this is how it all ends – him opening the door with a surprised look, gently telling you he’s got plans, and you slinking away like you never showed up in the first place. You’re ready to walk away, to put yourself out of this misery and pretend you never came, when you hear the deadbolt click.

The door swings open, and there he is, looking more surprised than annoyed. He’s wearing a loose t-shirt and joggers, barefoot, like he wasn’t expecting company. His hair’s a mess, and you realize with a weird sense of relief that he was alone.

“Hey,” he says, and you just stand there, because you don’t know what to say. Hey feels too casual for the way your heart’s racing, for the desperation that drove you here in the first place. He looks at you like he’s trying to read your mind, his eyebrows drawing together.

“I – I should have called,” you stutter, feeling heat rush to your face. 

“No, it’s... it’s fine,” he says, stepping aside to let you in. There’s a weird, careful distance in his voice, like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like he can tell there’s something different about today. “Come in.”

You walk inside, brushing past him. You feel his eyes on you the whole time, tracking your every movement. It’s stupid how much you want him to close the door, to pull you close and tell you he’s missed you, that he’s felt the same aching emptiness since you left last night.

But he doesn’t. He lingers by the door, watching as you settle on the edge of the couch, your hands clasped tightly in your lap to keep them from shaking. He knows you’re holding back and is waiting for you to say why you’re really here.

You force yourself to look up, meeting his eyes.

“I needed to see you,” you blurt out. You see surprise flicker across his face, but he doesn’t move, just stands there waiting for you to go on. You swallow, your throat tight, and push the words out. “I just... I can’t stop thinking about you. It’s driving me crazy.”

His eyes widen. Then he’s crossing the room, sitting down beside you, his hand reaching out to touch your knee. It’s gentle, hesitant.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice soft, and it’s the concern in it that makes you want to cry. You nod, even though you’re not sure you are, not really. You’re still scared, still feeling that horrible emptiness clawing at your chest, but he’s here, and he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that matters right now.

You let out a shaky breath and lean into him, pressing your face against his shoulder, and his arms come up around you automatically, holding you close. The relief is instant, a flood of warmth spreading through you, and you realize how desperate you’ve been for this, for him. His hand moves up to your hair, fingers gentle as they brush through it, and you can feel the tension in your body start to unwind, little by little.

“Why didn’t you call?” he murmurs against your hair, and there’s something almost fragile in his voice, like he’s been waiting for you too, like maybe he needed you as much as you needed him.

“I don’t know,” you admit, your voice muffled against his shoulder. “I was afraid you wouldn’t want me here.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his hands cradling your face, and you can see the frustration and tenderness mingling in his eyes. “You’re an idiot,” he says softly, but there’s no bite to it, only a strange kind of relief. Then he kisses you, hard and urgent, trying to make up for all the things you didn’t say.

[thatsdemko]

cookies -r.dias

warnings: not intended for minors + some spelling/grammar errors

a/n: idk what compelled me to write this but enjoy

whisking batter, soft incoherent noises in the background, you’re buried deep into your thoughts. the ovens preheating, the dough is ready to be made it into cookies, and Ruben dias is just arriving home from practice.

he’s not quiet with his arrival, he never is, but that’s what makes him unique. he turns down the long hallway and into the kitchen to find a beautiful sight; you in a red lacy nightie.

the smell of brown sugar and the sweetness of chocolate chips seems to fade into the back of his mind while another sense comes into the forefront of his mind: pleasure. it’s not one of the six senses, but damn it should be with the way his cock is pulsating in his athletic shorts.

he doesn’t say a thing, and he doesn’t need to. just presses his palm against your ass, thumb strumming the intricate details of the lace. a soft hum escapes your lips, you bend your body into a forward fold, back straightened, hands pressed into the cold granite counter. he takes this as a sign of consent, dropping his pants down to his ankles.

his two thumbs on each cheek, he spreads them with not even a lift of his finger before entering. you’re not sure if it’s all of him. to be fair, it never is, but with tonight’s sighting he’s sure to see what you can take making him feel such a way.

your eyes shut, heart thumping against your chest, you feel his cock pumping inside you, each stroke becoming more powerful and aggressive as he digs deeper.

no words are exchanged, just heavy breathing. he watches your fingers turn white, your grip is becoming loose against the counter, his cock dripping in your wetness as he inches himself further inside until you’re babbling words that just aren’t even anything. he chuckles to himself, your bodies are like one, he can feel your clit trembling at his touch, your legs shake with each earth shattering movement.

you’re sure you’ve come by now, but that doesn’t stop him. not even the sound of the oven up to temperature, not even him breaking a sweat stops him. it’s not until he finally comes that pulls back, and steps away.

“you up for some cookies?” you muster up the words, they slide soft off your tongue as you turn around to face him. your tits are fallen out of the cups, your face is glistening with sweat and somehow that makes his cock wet all over again.

“I could eat,” he pauses for a second wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, “but I really only want to eat you.” his fingers dig into your hips, he slides you up onto the counter and spreads your legs up over his shoulders.

the slightest touch of him sends your head slamming into the cupboard, a moan escapes your lips as he tongue cleans your inner thighs. he’s good with everything, but his tongue is the hottest part of him. the burn of his cheeks against your skin, the hot breath that fills you up, and the softness of his tongue, it could all send you overboard.

his tongue inches inward, expanding your folds and your entrance. you feel the need to clamp around him, claim him as your only source of energy, but your body shakes. you can’t get a grip on him and he just keeps exploring further into he’s hit your clit once again. the spot washes you with pleasure, your body shakes like it did before, and his face is covered in you. every inch.

“dessert is served.” you breath outward, it’s heavy and uneasy,you watch him lick himself clean like s man hungry for more.

“better than cookies.”

[nosugarallspice]

phrase 29 & scenario 30 w/ ruben dias?

You got it 👍🏽

Minors DNI!!

Word Count: 321

~~

“Doing so good, baby.” Ruben praised, his fingers buried deep inside your cunt, your juices dripping down his hand.

Your eyes were squeezed shut, thighs trembling as you did your best with keeping them open for him.

Ruben leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “Wanna cum on my fingers or my mouth?”

“B-both.” You whimper, moving your hips as his fingers work inside of you.

He looked up, a smirk spread across his lips, “yeah?” His movements began to slow.

“Like this?” He smiles, leaning down, his fingers part your folds, his tongue licking along your slit, teasing your entrance before moving up to your clit, sucking gently as his fingers curled inside of you.

You gasp, throwing your head back into the pillows. “Yes, oh yes!” You cry out, bucking your hips.

Your hands resting on the back of his head, pushing him further in between your thighs.

“Does this feel good?” His brown eyes peek up at you from in between your legs, the squelching noise becoming louder as his fingers move faster.

Nodding your head frantically, another cry escaping you as his fingers brush against your sweet spot over and over again.

Your eyes roll back, breathy moans leaving your lips as your back arches. “So good, it feels so so good.” You moan.

Ruben placed his arm across your lower stomach to keep you in place as you began to squirm.

“Ruben, please.” A whimper fell from your lips as your legs started to shake again, trying your best to hold back as the knot formed in your stomach.

He knew you were close, just by the way your walls clenched around his fingers - “I know, baby.” He murmured, his tongue circling your sensitive bud, pushing you over the edge.

“Oh god- oh fuck!” You cried out, back arching as your orgasm took over, his name falling from your lips over and over again.