#dia x you
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loid is actually a perfectly normal dad, the only difference is that anya can read his mind and figure out his past experiences instead of having him drop his lore 7 years later randomly on a thursday evening
#me with my dad#what do you MEAN you were caught in a shootout in university??? WHAT DO YOU MEAN?#dia talks#spy x family
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Nugget Update (MV1)
sumary: y/n's always giddy after getting a nugget update, sure she loves her best boy, but it also has something to do with the cat sitter sending the updates
driver!reader x cat sitter!max verstappen -> habs incoming... series masterlist
cw: not fia approved words, a bit of lance hate (I don't actually hate him), mutual pinning, the grid teasing the reader, lot of appearances from the reader's cat, kissing, kinda mean!reader (to the grid)
wc: 4.1k
a/n: this is my first time writing in 2nd person so bear with me. also, I low key hate this and it may be shit. not proof read!
“Well aren’t you a ball of sunshine?” A voice called out, disturbing the peace - or the closest thing to peace you could have near a Formula 1 track.
Your gaze snapped up, eyes narrowing as you took in the man standing on the entry of the RedBull garage. “Hello, Charles,” you replied, a teasing bite obviously heard in your voice as you crossed your arms over your chest. “I know you wanted to experience what a successful garage looks like but I thought Ferrari had a better hold on you.”
Charles laughs, his eyes crinkling as his lips stretch into a smile. Teasing Charles was always a fun time but that’s all it was, just a bit of fun. It never stretched into something meaner, just two people showing affection by teasing each other.
Charles had been your very first real friend on the grid. The first to offer his hand with a smile and genuinely mean it. The first to congratulate you on a win after getting out of the car or the first to say that the next race would be better. Really, he was your best friend, but you would never tell him that or it would go to his head.
“Funny, very funny.” He said, his accent thick. His eyes slid around the motor home until finally meeting your own. “Lot of drivers are going out for drinks, came by to invite you.”
“I don’t Charles,” you started to say, going through your mental list of excuses, searching for the best one to use to avoid this social interaction.
“Oh come on!” He whined, rolling his eyes. He gave you a look that let you know you could stop thinking about an excuse because he wasn’t going to be buying it. “We won’t stay that long and it’s night race tomorrow so you don’t need to wake up at the crack of dawn.”
You pressed your lips together, the lip gloss previously applied making them slide against each other easily.
Charles kissed his teeth, nodding his head along. Fine, he’ll play the game. “Some of the WAG’s are coming as well.”
“Are you really trying to lure me out by promising female company?”
“Is it working?”
“Eh,” you shrugged your shoulders. “Will you pay my tab?”
Charles scoffed. “Pay your tab?” He asked, sounding as if you had asked him for his firstborn. “You’re filthy rich! You have a bigger salary than me!”
“Yeah, they do pay world champions a bit extra, comes with the title.” You replied, grinning at him, a wide teasing grin, your eyes twinkling.
“Fine whatever, I’ll pay your tab.” He said, raising his hands in surrender. “Now go take that suit off and shower, you look disgusting.”
“You look like a trash can threw you up!”
“It threw me up because it saw you!” Charles shouted back in response, his back already turned to you as he walked away, back to the Ferrari garage.
And that’s how you ended up in the bar, an hour later. Squished in the not too comfortable and definitely not meant to sit so many people, booth. With George’s girlfriend Carmen on your left, and Pierre’s girlfriend Kika on your right, and deep in conversation with both of them.
You feel your phone vibrate under your hand on the table, and the screen lights up, showing off your wallpaper, a picture of your beloved cat Nugget.
You tune off from the conversation the moment the message arrives, grabbing your phone and pulling it in towards you. Your face lights up, lips stretching into a smile as your eyes focus on the sender ID. Maxie.
Or rather Max. The very cute guy who was your cat sitter whenever you were out and about in the world, chasing the racing track.
With a quick move of your fingers, you swipe up, opening your phone and going into the message app. Fingers quickly tapping along the screen of your phone as you type out your reply.
With a smile you closed the messages app, pressing your fingers against the button on the side of your phone, watching the screen go black before setting it face down onto the table. As you looked back up, Lando’s amused yet teasing expression caught your eye.
You leaned forward against the table, pressing your hands to the wooden surface as you attempted to get a bit closer to the driver on the other side of the table. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Oh nothing,” he said with a laugh. “Just wondering who you’re texting, that’s all.” He intertwined his fingers, elbows pressed against the table and leaned forward as well. “You were all grumpy cat but then you get a message and suddenly you’re all smiles.”
“Grumpy cat?” You scoff, rolling your eyes at the McLaren driver. “I’m not a grumpy cat. And for the record, that was Nugget’s babysitter and he was sending me a picture of Nugget.”
Lando laughs, there’s a twinkle in his eyes that tells you he wants to say more but he holds himself back. “Can I see? I haven’t seen the orange gremlin in so long.”
“That’s very mean,” you say, opening your phone to show him the picture, that Max had sent you. “Nugget would never say that about you.”
“That’s because Nugget can’t speak.” He looks at the screen and his lips twist upward in a smirk. “Who’s Maxie?”
You breathe out through your nose, teeth digging into your bottom lip. When you speak your voice is sharp, it leaves no room for questioning things or an invite to ask more questions. “The cat sitter.”
“I’m sure that’s all he is.” Lando laughs when you show him your middle finger before settling back into your seat and returning to the previously abandoned conversation with the two WAG’s.
The race went pretty smoothly, as always. Starting from pole, keeping the lead the whole race and with a 20s gap to car in P2. Everything after that was pretty much a blur, the interviews, partying through the night with the grid and boarding the jet early in the morning.
The sun already started setting by the time you made it to Monaco. With a sigh you rummaged through your bag, blindly feeling around the stuff inside before your fingers finally wrapped around the keys.
Opening the apartment door you walked inside, gently laying down your suitcase as your eyes settled on the scene in your living room. Right there, laying on your couch, in deep sleep, and cuddling your cat is Max Verstappen.
His hair had fallen over his eyes and the position he’s in looks rather uncomfortable, you’re sure his body will be aching when he wakes up. His chest was raising and falling with each breath he took, little sighs slipping past his lips. Nugget was cuddled up to him, curled in a ball.
You looked at him for a few moments before starting to move around as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake him up.
Max had been cat sitting for you for a while now. Half of last season and now half of this one so almost a year. He was a sweet, kinda shy, mostly nerdy guy you ran into in a coffee shop and spilled his coffee. You offered to buy him a new one and he joined you for the coffee and you got to talking when he said he was looking for a job so you offered him to become your pet sitter.
At that point you really did need someone to look after your cat while you were gone, since you had broken up with your ex who usually took care of Nugget while you were away. And you couldn’t leave Nugget with your parents since your father was allergic to cats.
Now, your best friend who had been working in a different country had returned to Monaco and said she’d be more than happy to look after Nugget - but you wanted to keep Max around.
Already having grown used to coming home after a race weekend to find him there, just existing in your space.
Nugget’s whiskers twitch, his eyes opening and he pulls himself away from Max, stretches out and then trots over to you, rubbing his head against your leg affectionately while purring. He let out a happy, albeit a bit too loud, meow when you picked him up and on the other side of the room Max began stirring from his sleep.
He opened his eyes, a bit confused, and rubbed his knuckles against his eyes to wake up, blinking a few times as his eyes adjusted to the light filling up the room.
“You’re back,” he says, his voice is gentle, still sleepy and a bit quiet. His eyes meet yours and he offers you a sweet smile that has you immediately smiling back at him. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep, sorry about that.”
“Oh no, it’s no problem,” you reply, running your hand over Nugget’s fur as the cat lay happily in your arms. “You can use the guest bedroom if you’re tired, you know. The couch may be expensive but that doesn’t mean it’s comfortable for sleep.”
“I didn’t want to overstep,” Max said, pulling himself up into a sitting position. You approached the couch and sat down, the cat nestling in your lap and purring in content. Max smiled, reaching out his hand and petting Nugget.
“Nonsense Max, you’re not overstepping.” You cut him off, leaving no room for argument. You always told him to feel at ease in your apartment, that he was welcome to any food in the fridge and free to use the guest room as he pleased but even after all this time there was still a slight air of awkwardness backed up by the fear of going a bit too far.
Max’s eyes settled on you, your own focused on your cat so you didn’t notice him looking. He watched the way you cooed at Nugget, asking if he was a good boy while you were away and petting him gently, and his lips stretched into a small, careful smile.
He spoke before thinking. The words left his mouth before he even finished the thought inside of his head. “I watched the race,” he said, and your eyes instantly snapped up to meet his. He swallowed, already too deep to back down. “It - “ he licked his lips, trying to decide his next words, feeling like his tongue had tied itself up in a knot. “You were spectacular. It was lovely … simply lovely.”
You let out a breath, the corners of your mouth twisting upwards and you gave him a thankful look. Max swore he could feel his heart beating in his throat, and felt his cheeks heat up. “Thank you,” you said, your voice gentle, holding a comforting tone. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. And it’s nice - knowing you watched.”
“It is?”
You bit your lip, teeth scraping against you bottom lip as you looked at him, your brain running faster than the Sauber (like it’s hard) as you tried to come up with a response. “It’s kind of comforting,” you finally said, after what felt like a small forever.
You hummed, looking down at your nails. “I was thinking about bringing Nugget with me to the next race. It’s been a while since he was in the paddock.”
“Oh,” Max said, an edge of confusion noticeable in the tone of his voice. “Does that mean that you don’t need me coming over next week?”
“Actually, I was hoping you would come with.” You say, before you can talk yourself out of making the proposition.
Max tilts his head to the side, kind of like a confused cat and you try your best not to giggle at the mental image. “I’m not sure I’m following.”
“If you wanted to attend the Grand Prix,” you tell him, running the edge of one of your nails along your skin. “Cuz’ I’m still gonna need someone to look after Nugget, and you do that in general so this would just be an added bonus of traveling.”
Max is silent for a few moments and you think he’ll decline. You wouldn't fully blame him if he did, you know what the pressure of the paddock can be like. You’re about to open your mouth, tell him that ‘never mind, it was a stupid idea anyway’ and put him out of the trouble of finding a polite way to decline when he finally speaks.
“I suppose, if you want me to then yeah, I’ll come along to watch Nugget.” He says, trying to ignore the nervous feeling building up in his chest when you smile at him, a wide happy smile that makes him instantly smile back.
“Great!” You said, the excitement evident in your voice. “Someone from the team will contact you in a while to arrange the tickets and leave the rest to me.” Max nods, he doesn’t trust himself to speak, not with the way his throat is closing up and it makes him feel like he can’t breathe.
“Look at you all giggly,” Charles teased, gently pushing your shoulder with his hand. He wiggled his eyebrows, a laugh slipping past his lips as you glared at him.
“Charles, why don’t you turn around and flash your pretty face to the crowd.” You said, rolling your eyes. You looked at the stadium full of people who were shouting out for their favorite drivers, waving banners and cheering happily. You smiled towards the stadium and lifted your hand up, waving your fingers to the public. “Give them a wave.”
“See, I always knew you thought I was pretty,” Charles replied, waving at the public. The two of you and the rest of the grid were in a wagon, going around the track for the drivers parade, so essentially you were stuck with him for at least five more minutes. “Now, do tell who’s got you smiling like that.”
“Is it Maxie?” Lando asked, the teasing tone evident in his voice. He pushed himself closer to you and Charles, inserting himself into the conversation.
“Didn’t your mom teach you not to eavesdrop?”
“No, no!” Charles said, shaking his head as he waved his hand dismissively as you, his full attention now focused on Lando. “Who’s Maxie?”
Lando smiled at him, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “The cat sitter,” he said in a sing-song kind of voice.
“The one you brought to your garage?” The Ferrari driver asked, his attention back on you. “The pretty one.”
“Hold up!” Lando almost shouted, raising his hands. “You brought him with you to the Grand Prix?!”
“I didn’t … well I did bring him.” You said with a sigh, there was no escaping this now. “But it’s not like that. He’s here to watch Nugget.”
“And for you to watch him - because boy that is one good arm candy.”
“Charles, your homosexual is showing,” you warned.
“But you’re not denying it,” Charles noted, giving you a smirk.
You rolled your eyes at him but finally gave in. “Yes, I’m not denying it.”
You stepped back into the motor home, your eyes immediately searching for Max and finally you found him talking to your lead engineer. As you approached the two you could start to hear their conversation and quickly realized they were talking about how the car worked and what went on behind the scenes at a Grand Prix. You found it cute that Max was interested in that.
His eyes met yours and his face lit up, the corners of his mouth twisting upwards into a smile. “You’re back!” He said, “After terrorizing everyone around and getting pets, Nugget decided to settle down for a nap. He’s in your driver's room.”
Max gave you a wink after saying that and you had to hold in a giggle. You excused yourself to go to your driver’s room, with Max following behind you. The first thing you noticed when you went inside was Nugget, curled up on the massage bed and sleeping without a care.
The next thing that grabbed your attention was a dozen pastries lined up on a small table next to the couch. They were all individually wrapped in tissues.
“Max,” you said, picking up one of the pastries and unwrapping it. “I really did mean only one pastry, you know?” You bit into the chocolate filled pastry, moaning at the taste of a treat you weren’t usually allowed to have when it was race week. “My trainer will strangle me if he sees.”
“I swear, no one saw anything.” Max said, shuffling over to the couch and sitting down. “I was sneakier than Nugget when he’s stealing my food.”
“Oh, now that’s a very serious claim.” You told him with a laugh, his own laugh echoing back. You picked up one of the wrapped pastries and offered it to him. “Take one, or five. There’s no way I’m eating it all.”
He takes the pastry you’re offering him, his fingers brushing against your own as he takes it from your hand, sending sparks of electricity down your spine. After a second of hesitation you sit down next to him, the two of you eating the treats in comfortable silence.
His thigh nudges against yours and you turn to face him, finding that he’s already looking at you. He smiles and you don’t hesitate to smile back.
The practices go great, P2 in FP1, P1 in FP2 and P1 in FP3.
The qualifying is where a slight setback shows up, with quali being ended early due to a crash and a red flag, putting you in P10 for the start of the race tomorrow.
Once the car had rolled back into the pits you wasted no time getting out, putting the steering wheel back into place before storming into your driver’s room.
You pulled your helmet off, fingers curling into the bottom of your balaclava as you pulled it off, throwing it next to your helmet before bringing your hands up to smooth down your hair.
“I’m not in the fucking mood, Pepe.” You said without turning around, assuming it was your race engineer coming to talk about the outcome of qualifying. “Fucking Lance and his fucking money made seat - if that little frog screws up another quali, I’ll be the one crashing him out.”
“I’m not Pepe,” the other person in the room says and you instantly turn around, your eyes wide as they meet Max’s blue ones. “And I’m certainly glad I’m not Lance.”
You looked him up and down, eyes trailing over his figure. You took notice of Nugged, cuddled up in his arms and looked at you curiously, and reached your hand out to pet the cat, a long breath slipping past your lips.
“Sorry,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “I didn’t really mean for you to hear that.”
Max barely heard what you were saying. Too distracted by the sight of you for his brain to properly register your words. Your skin was slightly glistening with sweat, an imprint from where your helmet and balaclava had dug into your skin still visible on your flushed cheeks. Your messy hair, and your chest raising and falling with each breath you took as you were still working on catching up your breath.
Max blinked, finally snapping out of his thoughts and focusing his attention back to what you were saying. “They should have let you finish the lap.”
“I agree but sadly that’s not how it works.”
Max nodded along, not really knowing what to say to that so he switched to the next topic. “I ran into your friend. He invited you, and me, out for drinks. I think it would be nice to go, you seem like you need a drink.”
“Yeah, I definitely do.” You replied, taking Nugget from his arms and into your own, stroking down the cat’s body. “Which friend?”
“Uh,” Max started, thinking of a way to describe the guy since he couldn’t remember his name. “Wears red, pretty, sounds French.”
You laughed, smiling at him. “That’s Charles. I hope you didn’t tell him he sounds French, he gets offended by that.”
“Then it’s great I kept it to myself.”
You laughed in reply, putting Nugget down to the floor, the cat immediately moving to a cozy corner and curling up into a ball on the floor, shutting his eyes. “The hotel is right next to the track, you can take Nugget back while I shower and then we can go - if you want to.”
“Sounds like a deal,” Max replied with a smile.
You showered and put on a clean set of clothes just in time to meet Max after he finished dropping Nugget back to the hotel, leaving him with toys, food and water. The two of you made your way to the bar to join the rest of the grid for a night out.
Some of the drivers were playing pool while their girlfriends were engrossed in a conversation so that left you and Max sitting together, sharing drinks and talking.
“I just …” you started, cracking your fingers. “I don’t know, this quali really messed up my mood and I was riding on such a high after the practices going well. It all feels shit now.”
“Maybe you just need more motivation for the race.” Max offered, drinking the rest of the liquor from his glass in one go.
“You have something in mind, Maxie?” You asked, the nickname slipping past your lips without a thought now that you’ve had a few drinks.
“How about a kiss if you get on the podium?” He said, his voice suggestive. Normally he never would have dared to say something like that but the alcohol courage really worked wonders.
Your eyes widened, clearly not expecting him to be so bold or to suggest that. He took your reaction as a bad sign, immediately straightening up as a wave of dread quickly sobered him up.
“I’m sorry,” he gasped out, the expression on his face shifting into a panicked one. “That was stupid. It was thoughtless. It was -”
“A great motivation,” you cut him off, putting a finger up against his lips to silence him. “It was a great motivation.”
His cheeks burned as his eyes met yours. He looked so vulnerable, his bright eyes impossibly wide. “Yeah?”
“Yeah!”
“One more corner to go but you’re in the clear,” Pepe’s voice echoed over the radio. You blinked, your eyes focused on the track before you, the checkered flag already visible along with your team gathering in the front. “That’s P1, Y/n. Phenomenal drive today, you deserved it!”
“Thank you,” you said, your voice breathless as you moved your hands, going through the last corner and speeding towards the finish line. “Thank you, Pepe.” You repeated, swallowing your spit. “It was lovely, simply lovely.”
You put the car into P1, getting out and posing for a picture on top of your car. You could hear the shouts, the cheers, the celebration. You took off your helmet, ripping off your balaclava and putting them both into the car before turning around to face the team, eyes searching for a particular face.
Finally, you spotted Max. Standing besides your engineer, a proud expression on his face as he looked at you with a wide smile. You didn’t hesitate, feet moving before you could think and then you were in front of him, grabbing his shirt and pulling him down, smashing your lips into his.
The kiss was desperate, both of having waited long enough for it. He wrapped his arms around you, the best he could with the fence between you, kissing you back with need.
You finally pulled away when you felt your lungs burning from the lack of oxygen, learning your forehead against his. Nothing else mattered, not the public, not the team, not the celebration. Only him, finally yours.
“Simply lovely, right?” You asked, your voice breathless.
“Simply lovely!” Max repeated back to you, before kissing you once again. And he really did mean it - everything was simply lovely.
tag list: @formula1-motogpfan @misty-inferno @thelemonque3n @marvel-hotchner @strangemaximoff @folkloresreputation @pippyth3hippy @adharacambridge @theseerbetweenus @sebastianstansblog @tellybearryyyy @six-call @grussellsprout @oikarma @justcharlotte @annimausi
i hope i tagged everyone who said they wanted to be on the tag list. hope you enjoyed this one and keep an eye out for the poll about the next part of the series <3
#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#formula one imagine#f1 x female reader#f1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1#dia writes#habs incoming#max verstappen x y/n#max verstappen x you#max x reader#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#max verstappen social media au#mv33 x reader#mv1 x you#mv1 x reader
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"PREY" - Alastor x reader fic
Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader
Tags: One-Shot, 18+, Smut, NSFW, edging, begging, overstimulation, Alastor does what he wants, there's plot if you squint really hard, alastor in heat, breeding kink, degradation kink, praise kink,
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Word Count: i lost count. it's big.
| Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
A/N: Helloooooo!!! I write a lot but i never publish it! My lovely friend and also biggest inspiration for this fic @smallershorteranduncut ordered me to post this and i'm nothing but her loyal servent! I hope you guys enjoy the fruits of me writing 10 google docs pages today while i was enraged. Also english isn't my first language, no beta we die like men here yadayayfayada! enjoy <;3 (UPDATE!) Part 2 is now up!
-
Everything about the Radio Demon seemed to be designed to make you desire him, want him. Many times in ways you weren’t even ready to admit to yourself. You haven’t been in Hell long, that’s true. But ever since you manifested here you felt like someone had picked your brain open to make Alastor the perfect bait to lure you into even more sinful, sinister paths.
He had an inexplicable magnetism around him, a piercing presence that made your eyes stuck on him when he worked a room. He had you bewitched and you hadn’t share more than polite pleasantries with each other since you became a guest at the hotel.
Today, again, you were transfixed in his gaze. Sitting in the corner of the hotel lobby, trying to make your embarrassing attraction to him go unnoticed while Alastor waltzed across the room explaining more of his wicked plans to Charlie. God, how you wish he had his wicked way with you.
He seemed more… on edge today. His red eyes glowed a little brighter, his nostrils flared a bit more, static filling the room more often, he was smiling with almost barred teeth, and everyone seemed to be avoiding him. Even Charlie was trying to politely dismiss him, the general feeling of uneasiness inside the hotel just growing larger when Angel stationed himself near your little corner of the room.
“Don’t go near that creepy motherfucker today, he’s about to lose it.” Angel alerted, almost whispering, a pair of his hands making the “crazy sign” near his head
“Isn’t he always creepy and about to lose it?” Husk added, staring at the exchange between the radio demon and Charlie.
“I’m telling you toots, I know that guy definitely isn't normal, but today he is borderline a mass extinction event. I swear, he’s just waiting for someone to give him the excuse” Angel replied, confirming your suspicions. Something was off.
“Uh. Well, about that, I think it’s time we rescue Charlie”
As if on cue Charlie turned to the corner of the room, gesticulating really hard to be taken away from the small commotion her conversation with Alastor was becoming.
“Hey Charlie, do you remember that thing with the hotel’s… personalized stationery you asked me to help you today? Let’s do it!” Said angel gently guiding Charlie away from the Radio Demon.
“Guess that’s my cue Alastor! Greaaaaat chat! As always! Have a nice day!! Byeee!” Charlie’s overly chirpy tone giving away her uneasiness.
Suddenly it felt like all the air was taken out of the room. Alastor’s neck turned into an ungodly angle, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. Static grew around the group, almost suffocating. As your vision went blurry from the sheer power that was being evoked, you contemplated if there was another afterlife. Preferably one where you didn’t inherit a death wish from your previous ones.
And as quick as it started, it was over.
Alastor just said a creepy “hm” turned on his hell, and walked away.
It almost felt like it was all in your head, but your friends standing perfectly still and dead silent next to you gave the reality of the situation away: everyone just had a near death-death experience. Maybe it would be a good topic for Charlie’s bonding exercises, who knows with this place.
“I told ya’ll. Mass. Extinction. Event. Stay out the psycho’s way”
Angel’s voice became background noise in your head, your eyes focusing on the spot where Alastor just threatened everybody’s life without saying a word. As the voices dissipated around you and normalcy slowly returned to the hotel, your mind sank deeper and deeper into the mystery that was the Radio Demon.
-
They were so oblivious, so naive. Thinking he wasn’t listening what they said about him behind his back. Thinking he was unaware of him being the topic of the discussion when he wasn’t looking. He could bathe in the smell of their fear, and he was relishing it.
Alastor stared at the new pretty little thing that arrived at the hotel. Oh how pathetically sweet and innocent she was, thinking she was being subtle about her infatuation with him. Thinking she could hide her interest in him, when she was nothing but a doe caught in the headlights of his eyes. Oh, she was just the perfect prey for him, wrapped in this lovely red bow she wore on her hair.
Angel was right, he was just waiting for an excuse, and she just offered him one on a silver platter. And alastor was everything but a coward.
-
You cursed a little bit louder than you intended when you saw the blood dripping from your finger. “Stop. making. a. spectacle. of. yourself” you mentally screamed. You still could not figure Charlie’s “special stationary stapler” out, so stapling your finger was bound to happen.
Even though it was not much, the silly little cut was stinging like a bitch, and your best efforts to stop the bleeding were futile, considering the mess on the hem of your skirt. Still high on the adrenaline from earlier, your shaking hands searched for something, anything to put on your finger so you could continue your work without anyone noticing. Everyone already had enough for one day, it was fine.
“My dear, did you just hurt yourself?” Alastor’s voice invaded your ears. Oh, fuck. That’s it, he was going to murder you for being so incompetent with the damned stapler.
Turning to face him, you meet his piercing gaze, not sure if you should run and scream for help. “Oh no worries alastor, it’s just a small cut, i can manage!” you give him your most confident smile.
Alastor’s head tilts, eyes burning red as he watches the small droplets of your blood make their way down your index finger.
“Nonsense, I can't have my staff running around with injuries and bloodied clothes. We are in hell, but we are not savages, dear” He seems transfixed by the blood, and you are too scared to move, too scared to anything other than hold the weight of his gaze and hope for the best. Your lizard brain is screaming for you to run, ask for help. Maybe Charlie isn’t too far away, could you make a run for it? Somehow your survival instincts override your brain, maybe all those hours watching true crime back on earth weren’t in vain, and you decide against running. Let him initiate first.
He catches your wrist, trapping it inside his deadly claws. His face, towering over you, comes all the way down to inspect the offending finger. You can feel his breathing on your skin.
Your breathing stops. You swallow an imaginary lump. He’s gonna bite off your fing-
“Would you be a doll and let me take care of it? Blood being unnecessary wasted truly abhors me”
You must have said yes at some point, you don’t really remember, now you are holding the red handkerchief he handed you, answering his request to “please follow him”. Trailing behind the Radio Demon, both of you walk through the large corridors.
This might be the time to scream for help. the voices inside your head warn. With every step of his feet you hear his microphone going tsk tsk tsk where it touches the ground. You are walking the death row, the paintings on the wall chanting “dead woman walking, dead woman walking”.
“Keep pressuring the wound darling, we are almost there” he gently commands you, too gently… it feels almost… soft, pleading. The way Alastor goes from 0 to 100 is giving you whiplash.
He slows down, reaching for the door knob of an unknown room. Ever the gentleman, he gestures for you to enter first.
the door locks behind you.
if i’m being murdered, at least i’m being murdered with class.
“Don’t be silly, I’m not going to murder you” Alastor says, almost singing the last part of the sentence.
“Oh fuck, i said that out loud, didn’t I?” you blurted out
“Yes you did. And yes, I also noticed your lovely doe eyes on me every time i’m in the room”
Your brain short circuits. That 's it. You are dead. He’s not going to murder you (apparently), but you are going to die of embarrassment. It will feel like murder. He knows, fuck, he knows. He knows about your crush (?) and he’s going to drag you for it. You are going to be so dragged the angels will pity you and bring you to heaven. A creative way to be redeemed, Charlie should know about this. Your thoughts are going downhill as a big snowball, there are too many of them and you can’t follow a single coherent train of thought. You don’t even want to know how you look in the middle of this. You must look pathetic, truly like a doe caught in headlights. And then you hear your name once.
Twice now, in a sing-song voice.
Your eyes fly open towards the sound, breaking from the anxiety induced spell as you realize the Radio Demon had just called you, by name. He knows your name???
“Ah hahah! You’re back.” Alastor says, as he starts to circle you like a predator. Your eyes, as always, follow his across the room.
“I don’t like to repeat myself, little doe. You heard what I asked?”
Again, you don’t really remember answering, your brain is going AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA as you watch him pace around you, eyes burning red, demanding your attention. Teeth slightly barred, voice on the edge of something. Was that “X” on his forehead always there?
“I asked if you know what you are doing to me” static fills the room as he finishes speaking. Alastor’s clawed hand trapped your bloodied finger dangerously close to his grinning lips. Your brain is doing flips as he stares deep into your soul, and when your thoughts land you make the connection. Alastor is horny. Alastor is horny for y-
“You see, little doe, I know what your eyes hide when you desperately lower them everytime I come near you. I know how you feel you can hide in plain sight if you stay quiet enough. But I can taste it. Your fear. Your lust. In the air. In your blood.” He has a white knuckled grip on your wrist now, same with his microphone. You lower your guard, eyes going from startled to lustful. “Good thing right now there’s nothing more i want in this godforsaken pit than your lust, pet”
You want this. There’s no point in lying to yourself. You want Alastor to fuck you. You’ve fantasized about the Radio Demon taking you more times than you can count. More times than you would like to admit to yourself. This feels deeply wrong, but you crave it.
Fuck it, you are in hell, there’s nothing to lose. Alastor is still watching you, impatiently. For the first time today you realize you actually forgot to say something. He’s waiting. Alastor is waiting for your permission.
“Take my breath away, Alastor”
Your permission might have been really loud, it felt like you were screaming the words. But you can’t be sure, it might have been a whisper. Either way he didn’t miss it, what happens next is fast, angry and delicious.
Alastor pounces and licks the blood on your finger, something clicks inside him as he tastes the red liquid, because he lets go of his microphone instantly and his arms grab your waist aggressively, so forceful you wouldn’t be surprised if it breaks skin. You shouldn’t be so turned on by this, by the sight of a psychopathic demon drinking your blood. But you are, and there’s no going back.
“Strip” he orders. You want to say to him that you can’t take your clothes off your person with him holding you like this. He must have realized the conundrum: if he wants you naked, he has to let go of you. To Alastor, letting go of you right now is simply unthinkable. So he doesn’t: you feel his claws cut the bodice of your dress open, sending the most delicious shivers down your spine. Another claw rips your skirt apart, and you are almost fully naked in the Radio Demon’s arms, pressing your body hard on his still impeccable dressed body.
It’s humiliating, it’s dangerous, it’s hot, it is delicious, to be at his complete mercy, just how you always wanted.
Somehow both of you made your way close to the enormous bed in the middle of the room. Alastor cornered you, so the only way you could escape was walking backwards towards the bed. The brilliant bastard.
You feel your calves hitting the edge of the bed, and Alastor breaks away.
Pity, your mind complains. Get him back to touching you again. right. now,.
“Now now, we should establish some rules for this, pet” Alastor’s hands might have stopped touching you, but his piercing eyes never did. He knocks you on top of the bed, you lay there sprawled open just for him. His hands move up to do a quick work of his bowtie
“Rule one: you will take what I give you. Nothing more, nothing less. What I give you is enough. You might feel like you can’t take anymore, but you can. You will take it, I will make you take it” He takes his tailcoat off, his frame towering over you, even with your body completely flat on the mattress and his in front of it.
“ Rule two: every ounce of your pleasure is mine and mine only. Mine to give, mine to take. And you will give me everything. I want to hear every sound, to feel every touch, to know every nasty thought that runs inside that pretty little head of yours. You will not suppress anything, I wanna hear your moans when you make a mess of yourself as I take everything I desire from your delicious body. I will relish on your desperate screams of pleasure.Nothing outside these walls matter” He is climbing on the bed now. You hold the weight of his gaze, underneath your demonic lover’s eyes your skin burns.
“Rule three: don’t you dare cum without my permission, good girls earn their orgasms and you will be a good girl. Or else…” static starts to pick up around the room, you are seeing the blackest black that ever was, his shadows enveloping you both. Nothing outside these walls matter. “Understood?” Alastor says as he pins your hands on top of your head, against the fancy headboard. His hand cups one of your boobs and he is worrying your nipple between his sharp claws. finally finally, your mind sings. You feel a surge of magic binding your wrists in green chains, attached to the headboard. It’s overbearing, it’s ridiculous. His magic feels like him, another part of him for you to take.
He pinches your nipple particularly hard and you moan softly, pleasure and pain consuming any other sensation. You forgot to answer him, you realize. You’ve barely started and you are already being bad. “yes alastor, yes.. but please don’t stop” the soft whimper leaves your lips.
“lovely.” he replies, and with that his mouth is on your nipple, sucking it while he administers his wicked ministrations to your other one. His sharp teeth prickling on the edge of breaking skin, and you already feel like you won’t be able to take all of him.
His hand trails down to aggressively grip your thighs, his tongue sucking the neglected nipple his fingers left. Your moans become frequent and messy, if he’s already making you go insane with the beginnings of foreplay... You might pass out and die when he starts fucking you, but you don’t care. Let him show you the true meaning of la petite mort.
“My my, what do we have here” his hand leaves your thigh to trace the wetness of your panties. A clawed finger rips it apart, the last barrier between you and total consumption by the Radio Demon. He takes the finger between your glistening lips, not entering, just teasing
“I don’t think i will get enough of this pretty little body of ours anytime soon, pet” he says as his finger finally enters your sex, He moves his digit with an expertise you didn’t really know he had in him, making you whimper his name, ooohs and aaaahs, your hips start threshing from the pleasure. If you continue at this pace, you will be begging for permission to cum too soon. Pathetic. you think to yourself. Because you know how hard this building orgasm will be,you don’t know if he will grant you more than one orgasm. And will you murder you yourself if you don’t feel his cock inside you tonight. You take a deep breath in between your moans and will your hips to stay in place, your nerves to calm down.
Alastor adds another finger, and it takes all of your willpower not to become a puddle of wetness right there. You bite your lip so hard you taste blood.
“you do make a mess of yourself, don’t you? you just can’t help it” he says as he curls his digits inside you. Your hips start thrashing hard again, and you sink them deeper into the bed. The chains on your wrists shake with the effort to hold back. As if alastor wasn’t going to notice. “no no no what did I say?” he snaps angrily, he’s eyes flash red at you and he takes his fingers out with a wet “pop”, you feel like crying at the emptiness. “please please alastor, don’t stop” you plead. His hands leave you entirely, you are left with just his piercing gaze, the one that makes your skin burn. “did I say you could hold back? don’t pretend like you aren’t a common whore for me, that you love how pathetic it feels that you are creaming yourself and we haven’t even really started”
his condescending tone just makes everything even more sublime. It’s so wrong how good being told you are nothing more than a common whore by the Radio Demon feels. But you never felt anything close to this. “please Alastor” you beg again, nothing but a small whisper
“I would love to taste this pussy, so red already for me, but since you broke one of the rules… i’m afraid I will make you understand that are nothing but my pretty cockslut the hard way”
Punishment? His punishment sounds ever better than his praise right now. You moan at his voice. He laughs.
His knees cage you, as he lifts his upper body from you and starts undoing his zipper. He is taking his cock out. Oh fuck, he’s gonna fuck you without anymore foreplay. And he’s not going to be gentle about it either. You shiver.
Alastor pumps himself a few times, his cock is big, thick, and an angry red shade, flush red like that, because of you, just for you. He’s gonna make you pay: pay for holding back from him, pay for making him feel like an animal and almost losing his hard constructed control.
The look on his face says it all, he’s gonna take it out on you and you can’t do nothing about it.
You don’t have much time to think about the repercussions, in one swift motion his tip is already inside you, stretching you deliciously. Your brain short circuits again, the feeling of his cock inside you is everything you imagine and more. Depraved, heavenly, delicious. You struggle in your binds again, you want desperately to touch him. To feel his skin beneath your finger, to scratch him, mark him. But oh well, he’s the Radio Demon, he’s the one in charge and you are his prey.
Alastor starts to slowly enter you, he’s trying his best to hold back. He knows if he does this too fast it will hurt in a way he doesn’t want you to feel. And by the look on his face going slow is as torturous for him as it is for you. tantalizing inch after tantalizing inch he spreads the walls of your cunt apart. You understand now why this is punishment, it hurts in a perfect way, it hurts even more that he is doing it slowly, and not just thrusting like you imagined he would, if he had more time to work on you.
You become a mess of moans and incoherent words. His cock is halfway inside you now “HoLY FUCK ALASTOR” you scream. It’s already too much.
“There’s nothing holy about this my dear. I’m going to breed you. I’m going to break you” and with that he buries himself to the hilt inside you. Now you truly scream in pleasure and pain “you won’t be able to walk straight for days, you will feel me in every step, and you will thank me for it”. His thrusts pick up at breakneck speed, the bed shakes from the sheer force that Alastor is using to fuck you. Every snap of his hips you moan more and more.
The sound you make when he takes everything out and enters you at once is so obscene that it would make Angel Dust blush. He’s growling now, his antlers growing bigger as he fucks you like his life dependend on it. As he fucks you like he hates you.
Alastor pushes your hips higher, and suddenly he’s even deeper. His other hand holding your waist in a bruising grip. The strain on your pinned hands will bruise too. His lips graze the skin of your collarbone, he looks so feral you are scared he will maul, the thrill of not knowing adding to your fucked up sense of pleasure.
He seems to pick up on your fear, and bites down on your collarbone, hauling as he tastes your blood and buries himself inside you again and again. Moans turned into screams, and the only thing coming out of your lips is his name, spoken like a profane prayer. You would give everything you have to Alastor, and he doesn’t even have to ask.
Your orgasm has been building for a while now, the coil on your belly becoming tighter and tighter, like a supernova about to be born. “Alastor, please please let me come” you beg. His unfocused eyes stare down at you, as he takes a moment from feasting on your sweet blood to address your desperate, sweet pleas.
“Don’t. You. Dare” he says, punctuating every word with a sharp thrust. As much as you want, you are not sure you will be able to hold any longer. “I beg you alastor, please let me cum, i will let you do anything you want. but i need it so badly, please please”
You sounded so desperate when you begged, so beautiful.
“Don’t strike deals you don’t know you can fulfill, pet” his voice is low, a warning. You ignore it. “I promise Alastor, anything”. Alastor laughs.
his finger touches your clit as he finally allows your sweet relief “you may come now, sweet doe” and that’s it, you are off, you are dead. You see stars, you see the entire universe as you scream out and climax. Walls tightening around Alastor’s monster cock, eyes rowling, his name a scream on your lips. You ride out your wave slowly, but Alastor is not slowing down.
Instead he is picking up his pace, maneuvering your hips even higher, your chains are stretched to the limit. You can feel them start piercing your skin. Thrust after thrust the sensation becomes too much, you are too overstimulated to go through all of this again.
“i can’t take it, i can’t take it!”
Alastor doesn’t care. “I told you not to make deals if you can’t hold them, didn’t I?” You don’t answer, you can’t. you can’t to anything but let him fuck you as hard and as much as he want. “but you are such a little cockslut for me that you can’t help it. What a shame”
He is gripping your hips so hard it breaks skin, tiny trails of blood on his claws. “you will take it. You better take it, or I will make you take it” static picks up as he threatens the last words. You know you are spent, you know how bad it hurts, you know how bad his words sound, but the lines between pleasure and pain are so blurred that you can’t think coherently. Even this pain of being broken feels good.
Still, tears fill your eyes and you start crying, from pleasure, from pain, you don’t know anymore. What Alastor is doing to you has no precedent. No one can do this like he does. He knows torture too well, and he is tortouring you in the most decadent, delicious ways possible. “alastor i want to, i want to so bad but i just can’t” the tears sting your eyes and stain your face.
Alastor sees it. He slows down just a bit, his voice softening “oh my dear doe, but you can. Just this once more, just for me. One more” his voice is so maddening soft it acts like fuel to your tears. Your skin tingles and you feel giddy, somehow your throbbing hot, wet cunt seems to find the right amount of relief, and you can feel only pleasure again.
Alastor continues to fuck you, your moans returning to normal, you are being so loud now, making a mess of yourself, just like he said, and a big hand comes to cover your mouth.
“Oh we can’t have you being this loud can we?” his voice goes to that delicious mocking tone. His thrusts are slower now, but as deep as they can go. “what would you friends say if they found out that you moan like a common whore for their feared radio demon.. hum,.?”
You start to feel the pit of your belly tightening again, and alastor doesn’t stop humiliating you. The degradation feels just the right amount of perfection. You are exactly what he says you are. A common whore when it comes to him. “weren’t you ashamed just a few moments ago? trying to hold back the sinful sounds you make when I touch you? I already gave you one orgasm. I’ve been way too generous for my liking. I should stop right now since you feel so conscious about this” Alator’s breathing is becoming erratic, his thrusts sharp, hard, and out of the breakneck rhythm he was torturing you before.You start moaning even louder through his hand. “ungrateful little pet. You are just so greedy for one more orgasm, you don’t even care that everyone downstairs can hear you hm??”
You can’t think straight. you feel on the edge of glory, this orgasm threatening to be harder than your previous one, as if it is possible. “alastor i’m so sorry, i know i don’t deserve it” you muffle behind his hand, he hears you speaking and takes if off “but can you please let me cum? just this once? just for you. Please Al” his thrusts are truly erratic now. He’s close too, even though you are too wrapped up on your own sensations to notice
“please” you beg, nothing more than a whisper. Already making peace with the fact that you are going to come without his permission and he will probably never fuck you again
“Good girl, you can come now”
instantly as you are granted his permissions your world explodes, blinding hot pleasure takes over your body, the waves of pleasure making your heart beat so fast you feel like it’s going to stop. The petit mort is coming, and her sweet embrace envelops you, specially now that you feel Alastor’s cock twitching and spilling his seed inside you. You scream his name. Maybe you hear him screaming yours too. You don’t know anymore, your nerves are singing from pleasure unheard of back when you were alive. Pleasure so great it could only be found in hell. The most heavily, depraved way of torture.
You come down from your high, still dizzy, your body going limp. You are not dead, but you are positively spent. You give in into the warm and fuzziness of sleep.
The last thing you remember is the softness of a blanket, a gentle kiss on your cheek.
“Oh my dear, I knew you had one more on you,spending yourself this way just for me! What a truly precious thing, doe”
You might be dreaming now.
-
You weren’t dreaming. Alastor praises you, knowing his words will be the last thing you hear before a night of peaceful, deep dreamless slumber. He makes sure to put the softest velvet blanket he owns on your body, not to make the damage you gladly allowed your body to take for him an inconvenience. Tomorrow you will wake up to fancy letters of praise and sweet chocolate covered strawberries. And no one will know how Alastor found the perfect doe to breed as he pleases during the height of his mating season.
#hello guys im insane can you tell?#eu escrevi isso aqui na força do odio puro e genuino de quem ta sendo xingada no twitter tem dias#alastor#alstor smut#alastor x reader#alastor x reader smut#alastor fanfic#the radio demon#the radio demon x you#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin fic#autora também está no cio#serio aquela msuica sento no bico da glock rebolo e tiro o short e vem vamo fudeee o gabriel tirou o meu cabaço e me botou de quatro nao#sai da minha cabeça#aquariano nato também não#QUEBRA A CAMA DESSAS PUTAAAAAAAAA#baixaria
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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.
#ruben dias#ruben dias x reader#rúben dias#ruben dias fic#ruben dias fanfic#ruben dias imagine#ruben dias fluff#ruben dias x y/n#ruben dias x you#ruben dias oneshot#dad!ruben#football imagine#footballer fanfic#football fanfic#footballer imagine#footballer oneshot#man city#manchester city
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tied up monster bf that whines and uselessly thrusts into the air in front of you when you don't let him near your sloppy wet hole out of punishment
said monster bf that breaks through the ropes & pins your tiny weak body down, rutting against you, planning to make sure you get bred with every. last. drop. >>>
#◇˖・゚— › cosmic monsterfucker . ⊹#monsterfucker#monster fucker#monster lover#monster smut#monster boyfriend#terato#monster x you#monster x human#monster x reader#monster kink#monster breeding#monster bf#this can be Mammon Levi Beel or Dia ughhh#tw monsterfucking
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A funny and crackish (?) soulmate au that came to mind is
Soulmate AU with Lilia Vanrouge but it’s the one where you share the pain of your soulmate…but in this case it’s everyday aches and pains (I mean we can go deeper with wounds and injuries but I’m trying to be comedic 😂)
You arrive to this world of twst and you find out soulmates are real.
And damn, do you find out the hard way, your body aches.
It ranges from day to day but it’s there and you weren’t like that before, after thorough check ups from Professor Crewel, he concluded it’s your soulmate.
Goodie.
So, here you are, half sprawled across your table with the first years trying to help.
You: Once I find them, they are going to pay for the hell I’m going through.
Ace: It can’t be that ba-okay, yeesh! Don’t give me that look!
You: My body aches. What the hell is my soulmate doing? 1000 Push-ups? And who hurts this bad? Almost every day? Are they ancient or something? Argh.
Also You: My aching back uwaahh, their posture probably sucks too.
The first years try to comfort you as best they could.
#I thought this was a funny idea 😂💞#this has been brought to you by “’my body aches is this what Lilia feels? oh wait a minute what ifff ???’ 😂😂#when everything must be related to dia someway or some how#lilia vanrouge x reader#twst x you
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Hiii!!
Love your work!! If you’re available, could you please write hc’s of Jing Yuan, Natasha, Kafka, Boothill, Jiaoqiu (OOC is fine!!), Sampo, Gallagher, March 7th, and/or Serval with a reader with low blood sugar? Huge self-indulgent comfort ask, but it might resonate with a lot of other people!
My DM’s are open if you ever would like to learn some major symptoms of blood sugar drops. You absolutely do not have to do all of these characters, just giving you some ideas! Have a wonderful day/night!! ☺️💕
Synopsis: headcanons of the hsr character and reader with a low blood sugar.
Includes: Boothill, Jiaoqiu (might be ooc), Jing yuan, Gallagher, and March 7th.
Notes: i didn't add all of them because i usually write up to 5 characters or so (gonna create my rules sometime this week). But thank you for the request, lovey! I had so much fun writing this, i love writing and exploring new things :) i hope it was to your expectations, and sorry if the symptoms were inaccurate (google was my help i was too shy to dm.)
↳ BOOTHILL.
—we all should agree that this man is a caring lover, although i see him as the type to forget that you're not like him. You're not metal and scraps like him, and that you're a human being who needs a lil extra care.
—he doesn't think much of it when you first tell him that you tend to have low blood sugar, he even asks random strangers at bars he goes to about this sickness.
Boothill loves all types of fun to do with you, and tonight, you suggested you both dance.
Seeing the hint of a smile gracing your lips when you try hiding it by pressing your face on shoulder, Boothill grins. And he makes no attempt to hide his delight, he tightens his grip on your frame, holding you carefully but firmly against his chest.
"Well now, ain't I a lucky devil," he drawls, the evident sarcasm was in his tone, "Looks like I'm gettin' the chance to dance with a lovely person who shares my love for tryin' new things. I must be doin' somethin' right."
Silly, you think. "You were simply just you. And i love being with you."
Boothill grins, his eyes softening at the edges as he gazes down at you.
"Well now, ain't that a sweet thing to say," he replies, his voice gruff yet affectionate. "I ain't used to hearin' such sweet talk, to be honest." He pauses for a beat, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly.
"But hearin' it from you, it's nice," he continued before pulling you a bit closer against him.
You laugh along with him, bringing your hand to brush your fingertips along his hair, your other hand over the metallic surface of his chest before you slow your movements, you feel dizzy. No, it's not from how much you both were spinning, you both were going slow and careful.
It doesn't go unnoticed by him with the shift in your demeanor, a subtle change in your movements that indicates something is amiss.
"You okay there, darlin'?" he asks, his brow furrowing as he looks down at you. He can feel something amiss with you physically.
"Lightheaded." You mumble, holding onto him. "You... You have uhm.. anything sweet i can take?" He gives you a nod, "Reach into my pocket, I'm sure there's a candy sitting there," he explains, guiding your hand to his pocket, taking it calmly.
You give him a small smile when you reach for his side pocket to grab the singular wrapped candy.
Your fingers fumbles with the wrapper before you pop it in your mouth, sucking on the strawberry flavoured candy while resting your cheek on his shoulder.
"Doin' a little better there?"
"Yeah, thanks my hero."
"Don't you go gettin' all sweet on me now," he mutters with that of gruffness, though he smiles. "You're the one who's supposed to keep me from goin' all soft."
↳ GALLAGHER.
—Oh he's ready 24/7 whenever the situation calls for it. He takes this very seriously and will make sure no funny jokes were made about it, because they're certainly not funny to him and he will kick ass if anyone makes it harder on you than it should be.
What a sight for sore eyes. Truly. And no, he's not talking about the view, he's glancing back at you where you sat while looking up at the skies, your head titled as if you're so immersed.
"Anything on your mind?" He was the first to speak as he approaches you, "A lot of things.. clouding my head." You half shrug, watching him as he takes a seat next to you with a can of some carbonated drink on his side, and you hear the slight hiss of it when he open it with his finger. The carbonated drink fizzes a little between his finger and thumb as he pops the tab open, taking a small sip from it before turning his attention back to you.
His crimson eyes were on the direction you were trying to look at but he can't find what's so interesting about tonight's sky.
“I'm willing to stay here all night and listen.” He reassures you.
"Mhm," you stare blankly ahead now, almost zoning out, and you don't notice how sweaty you're starting to feel, or how your heart starts racing.
Gallagher's eyes narrow as he notices your almost zombie like look of a thousand yard stare. The way you look unmoving and not even acknowledging him.
He doesn't say anything and just hands you his drink, gently tapping the can on your arm to bring back your attention. You don't hesitate to grab it, taking small fast sips.
"Careful," he helps you straighten your back, drinking while slouching isn't exactly good.
You sigh when you hold the can with both hands now, letting it rest on your lap, "Thank you—"
"When was the last time you ate today?" He gently cuts you off.
"Earlier."
“And can you confirm that ‘earlier’ wasn’t hours ago?” He asked, his voice now firm but he tries to stay calm.
"I'm sleepy." You brush his question off instead, looking at him while blinking slowly as you lean to rest your head on the side of his shoulder. Gallagher watches you, letting out a soft scoff at how you tried to change the subject. He knew he wasn’t going to get an answer from you, but he also wasn’t going to let you just avoid the problem either.
"We're having dinner after your little nap, deal?"
↳ MARCH 7TH.
—March.. panics when she finds out for the first time. She asks you if you were okay, if you wanted anything, even when you try to reassure her that you felt fine at times, she wouldn't be convinced until you stay under her watch. She bugs Dan Heng to tell her all the possible symptoms so she wouldn't panic more than she should.
Today, you were March's model for photography, well you always are her model because she says you're the best fit for it.
She lets you try out fun clothes and you shyly and awkwardly try to pose in front of the camera at first, but then you immediately gain the confidence after a few more clicks. Smiling and posing while trying out all the fun combinations of colours and clothes.
She looked at you, wearing clothes she had picked out for you. You looked absolutely beautiful.
The enthusiastic girl was blushing a lot as she kept taking pictures of you, giggling behind the camera even.
"March, mind if i sit down for a bit?" You hated to stop her from her enthusiasm, but you feel lightheaded almost. And you were sure it's not from the flashes.
March immediately stopped taking photos and set her camera down when you asked.
She placed a gentle hand onto your forehead, seeing if you had a fever first. "Are you feeling sick?"
"No, don't panic. I just feel lightheaded. Do you have anything sweet i can take?"
Okay, she is prepared for this, "You're low on blood sugar, are you?" She asked, concerned. March then grabbed a small candy—a lollipop, to be exact—from the camera case and offered it out to you.
"And you came prepared." You try teasing, and she nodded with a light laugh. It was a nice-looking sweet lemon-flavored lolliop.
"I carry them with me just in case!" She replied, You both sit down together, she takes out another lollipop for herself so you wouldn't feel left out.
"We can take pictures while eating these lollipops."
March nodded in agreement with your idea, she was happy that you even said that, it meant taking pictures together for an hour now wasn't boring you out.
Then, she pulled out her camera again, a grin forming on her face, "That's a good idea! Alright, on the count of three—" she pulls the lollipop out, posing as if kissing the candy while you smile widely as the camera clicks on both of you.
↳ JIAOQIU.
—sooo, he's a healer. Then that means we all can agree that he's the attentive lover, and strictly cares about your health and diet, but i feel like he'd be playful about it at times.
You don't remember sleeping for so long when you woke up rather confused, shuffling around the blankets and sitting up on the bed while rubbing your head.
Your fault for skipping breakfast and going straight into your work or chores for today.
You fail to notice at first the pink haired figure next to you, sitting beside the bed so silently that it makes you gasp when you turn around to see him.
He was holding a spoonful of some red liquid that you're sure is spicy concoction. He looks at you expectantly, a hint of mischief behind his closed eyes.
“Say ahh,” he says quietly, enjoying the moment. But you almost try not to laugh.
"What happened exactly?" You ask him, refusing to still take that.. extremely dark red soup. It was so dark you can almost smell the spice in the air.
"Someone forgot to eat their meal i prepared earlier," he hums, still trying to pry his spoon closer to your lips, "so i had to find myself misfortune in the of finding you almost unconscious. You're lucky i was carrying some sweet herbs with me." And you frown at his next words, you want to apologize for how he must've been worried.
As if sensing your next words, he smiles, "none of that. Now, open up." He offers you the spoonful again but you pull your face away.
"Are you sure you're not trying to kill me next?"
Jiaoqiu pretends to pout. His fox ears prick and he gives you a slight pout, "You're so dramatic," he says, his tail flicking with amusement. He holds up the spoon again, still waiting for you to open your mouth.
"My soup will fix your blood sugar. Trust me, it's a secret recipe," Jiaoqiu says with a sly smirk.
"What if it tastes bad?" You regret the words leaving your mouth, because he opens his eyes and stares at you with an almost hurt expression. You take the spoonful in your mouth without another complaint, and he hums in approval while closing back his eyes.
The flavours almost explode in your mouth, it.. wasn't spicy at all. It was rather sweet and savoury.
"You tricked me, it's not spicy at all."
"I never said it was spicy, though." He tilts his head, feigning innocence and confusion.
Despite his antics, you instantly feel better, although he doesn't allow you to feed yourself, he'll do it for you.
↳ JING YUAN.
—This man would spoil you rotten. You're feeling unwell? He would love to take the day off and just look after you, although there is a doctor on the side in case anything gets serious. You're simply tired not because of your low sugar levels, but just because you were? He would gladly invite you in his arms or simply sit next to you while you both chat nonstop about eachother's days if that's what will make you feel better.
You were panting when you decided to train alone in the training grounds, Yanqing offered to train with you but you insisted that you needed that full concentration.
After a while, you do feel exhausted and worn out. The spear dropping from your hands as you bend a bit to rest your hands on your knees to catch some breath.
"Now, now, if you want to get stronger, you'll also need a break." Jing Yuan's call for you is what makes you huff out a chuckle. In his hands is what looked to be a bowl of fruits with a water bottle on the other.
"i wanted to build some muscle." You tell him when he gives you that look whenever you start training alone. It's not that he's against your wishes of wanting to be stronger for your own good, but he wishes Yanqing was atleast there to watch you.
"And, I'm not a baby." You roll your eyes playfully and he lets out a deep laugh. "Eat up." You take the orange first, but he was quick to take it from your hands to peel it for you, so you take the grape instead.
You as well take the bottle, gulping down almost the whole thing. Water has never tasted this good.
"You're not a baby, but you drool like one." You almost glare at his words and he only grins while wiping the excess water and fruit juice off the corner of your lips with his thumb. "That was mean, General." You raise both of your eyebrows at him, he only pats your head back, pulling you in with his arm to just hold you.
"when the time comes, you'll be strong enough to protect me."
#hsr x reader#honkai star rail fluff#honkai star rail#hsr#hsr headcanons#hsr hcs#jiaoqiu#jiaoqiu x reader#jing yuan#jing yuan x reader#march 7th#march 7th x reader#boothill#boothill x reader#gallagher#Gallagher x reader#hsr x you#headcanons#dia answers.
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color me jealous - (pg8)
summary: jealous pedri featuring rúben mf dias ;) (model!reader)
dedicated to all the pedri girls <3
You were smiling at your phone while you sipped on the expensive champagne, replaying your Instagram story over and over again, the imagine you posted of the flowers your boyfriend sent to your dressing room before your modelling show never failing to spread a smile to your face. But of course, your happy moment had to be interrupted.
Turning on your heels, a strong scent of perfume met your nose as two arms wrapped tightly around you, the elder woman air kissing your cheeks.
“you were absolutely beautiful up there, y/n!” The lady, one of whom dresses you wore tonight spoke in an elegant voice yet thick accent you could only recognise as french.
“thank you! the dress was beautiful,” you smiled brightly, the woman giving your hands a squeeze, whispering another few rounds of praises before disappearing somewhere in the gallery to mingle with the rest of the stuck up, posh people. You knew you had to join them, but your thoughts were filled with one person only.
You looked around, your eyes scanning every table, every single corner of the big gallery for Pedri, yet you could not spot him anywhere.
A frown crept to your face, a thousand thoughts filling your mind.
‘did he leave early?’
‘why would he leave before coming up to you, kissing you and telling you he’s proud of you?’
‘maybe he had a football emergency?’
‘football emergency this late?’
“I saw Pedri outside taking a phone call a few minutes ago,” the familiar voice of Rúben Dias came from behind you, making your eyes widen as you whipped your head around, meeting Rúben’s warm smile and eyes.
“Rú? What are you doing here?” You asked, a chuckle escaping your lips as you went in to hug the tall man.
Rúben laughed, wrapping his arms around you before speaking, “As if I’d miss out on seeing you on that runway,” his smile could almost reach his ears as he looked down at you.
While any other girl would absolutely melt under Rúben’s eyes, you always made sure to keep a respectful distance, first because you had Pedri who was your person in every possible way and second because you didn’t want to fuel into Rúben’s flirting too much. You were loving the attention, though.
“thank you! I appreciate it,” you smiled, you were happy to see him, the last time you two had hung out was a long time ago when you were modelling in England, but the Man City player always seemed to have some interest in you, even before you started going out with Pedri a few months ago.
You and Rúben have always been friendly, sure, he was always playful flirting with you, but whatever attraction you had felt for the portuguese has quickly disappeared when you met Pedri. As soon as Rúben had posted a picture of the two of you at the gala, arms wrapped around your shoulders as your hand rested on his chest, the fans and media went wild.
It didn’t take long for the fans to figure out where the location of the after party of your modelling agency took place, and while Pedri was on the phone with his manager, he couldn’t help the frown on his face when the fans a few feet away were chanting Rúben Dias’ name.
You met Pedri almost six months ago when your best friend insisted on going to a Barcelona game, and while you didn’t know much about football at the time, your interest was quickly growing when you saw the man who wore number 8. With the help of a friend of a friend, who happened to be married to one of the players, you stuck around long enough to meet them after the game and you and Pedri became inseparable ever since.
He was confused as to why in the world there were people holding Man City jerseys, chanting the name of another football player, until he checked Instagram and saw the photo that was now on every gossip page. People were speculating, asking if you and him had broken up so short after hard launching your relationship and Pedri hated that more than he liked to admit. He hated being in the spotlight with things like these but he hated even more the way Rúben fucking Dias held his arm around you.
Back inside, you were laughing at whatever Rúben had said, your head falling back and your nose scrunching in that adorable way Pedri always said he adores.
Pedri, Pedri, Pedri, Pedri, your mind repeated over and over again.
Your eyes met across the room, his brown eyes softening when your gazes locked. His eyes hid some kind of harshness in them, and you could immediately tell that there was something bothering him, and that something happened to start with an ‘R’ and end with an ‘úben’.
While it was morally wrong to fuel Pedri’s jealousy, you couldn’t help yourself and keeping your boyfriend on his toes wouldn’t hurt.
Your palm pressed against Rúben’s bicep as you leaned up to whisper something in his ear, Pedri’s eye twitching while he watched from afar, wondering what the hell you could’ve said that got Rúben smiling so brightly. He clenched the glass of whiskey harder in his hands until his knuckles turned white and for a second Pedri considered calling Gavi to help him commit murder, knowing his best friend would definitely help dig away the body.
“you’re really trying to tick Pedri off, huh?” Rúben laughed, making you chuckle and making Pedri picture his murder in graphic detail.
“he’s really sweet, I like it when he gets a bit rough and jealous sometimes,” you laughed, shaking your head at Rúben, your eyes meeting the familiar chocolate brown orbs.
“what, like, throw you to the wall rough?” Rúben raised an eyebrow, but couldn’t help the smile that spread to his lips.
“no, not like that,” you laughed knowing you were not about to discuss your sex life with Rúben, at the after party of your show.
“mi amor?” you heard the soft, familiar voice calling out for you, both you and Rúben turning to see Pedri.
He looked almost sad, and you couldn’t help the pain in your chest when you saw that disappointed glimmer in your boyfriend’s eyes which was probably because you barely got to see him after the show. The quicky in your dressing room before hitting the runway was good tho.
“can I talk to you for a second?” Pedri dragged his voice, his eyes falling from Rúben to you, not caring how rude the other football player might consider him, “alone.”
You nodded and bid Rúben goodbye, thanking him for coming. Pedri was still a golden retriever, so even if he was slightly pissed off because you paid so much attention to Rúben, he still shook his hand.
“looking forward to that friendly,” Rúben said with a slight tease in his voice, making Pedri clench his jaw, he barely recognized himself, he was never this jealous.
“I’m looking forward to rearranging your jaw—“ Pedri muttered under his breath as you and him walked away, his words caused you to laugh and hit his shoulder.
“can you not? he was nice to you,” you chuckled, stopping in a secluded spot in the gallery.
“by flirting with you all night? damn, we have different definitions for ‘nice’,” Pedri huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked you in the eyes.
Jealousy, rage and so much love and affection was in them. No matter how much you annoyed him, Pedri never seemed to be able to lash out at you and that was the greenest flag you could think of.
“you did that on purpose didn’t you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow when you smiled cheekily, your arms wrapping around his waist and your chin resting on his chest, “you’re so annoying,” Pedri mumbled when he realised all that overly friendly stuff with Rúben was an act.
“you love meee,” you chuckled, laughing at Pedri’s narrowed eyes, knowing he was either plotting your murder or thinking of how to get you back.
His lips curled into a grin, his nose rubbing against yours as he spoke against your lips, “too much, mi estrella.”
#pedri smut#pedri one shot#pedri headcanon#pedri fanfic#pedri x y/n#pedri x you#pedri#pedri fluff#pedri imagine#pedri x reader#pedri gonzalez#pedrito#pedro gonzález lópez#fc barcelona#football imagine#ruben dias#ruben dias x reader#spain national team#spain nt#footballer x reader#football fic#football
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trying to erase the trace of...
#GIVE ME TOUCH STARVED YEARNING BUT WITHOUT TOUCH#dia try to coherently explain your thoughts challenge go#Listen#theres something extra Oomph about characters being touch starved BUT FROM A DISTANCE okay#i read a fic called 'with kid gloves' where yor forgot her gloves and loid HAD IT IN HIS POCKET and he TWINED HIS FINGERS THROUGH#AND HE FELT THE WARMTH FROM THE GLOVES AND THE ROUNDEDNESS IN THE FINGERS THAT HER HANDS LEFT#AND HE CARESSED IT WITH HIS HANDS#OKAY#TODAY I READ A WEBTOON WHERE THE GUY WAS SAT AT A DISTANCE AND THE GIRL WAS SLEEPING AND HE LIFTED HIS HAND#AND HE DIDNT TOUCH HER BUT TRACED THE OUTLINE OF HER CHEEK IN THE AIR#OK#DO YOU GET IT#LIKE KAZ BREKKER AND INEJ OK#( me always going back to soc and kanej)#HE THOUGHT OF RUBBING HIS THUMB OVER THE PLAITS OF HER BRAID AND WONDERED WHAT IT WOULD FEEL LIKE#GIVE ME THINGS LIKE THESE TOUCHLESS YEARNING TOUCH-STARVED FROM A DISTANCE#spy x family#twiyor#loid forger#yor forger#my art#sxf#loidyor#loiyor
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M4X
summary: after max wins his 4th title in vegas, you congratulate him in a special way in his driver's room
tags: pwp, kinda sub!max, semi public sex, blowjob, deep throating, I went a bit wild on use of "champion"
wc: 1.4k
a/n: do I have an exam tomorrow? yes! am I in the middle of writing a lando fic? also yes! but ever since the race ended I keep thinking about this so I had to write it.
You waited patiently, bounding on the balls of your feet as you gathered outside the RedBull garage alongside the employees, feeling like both your nerves and excitement were choking you up.
Your cheeks hurt from how wide you were smiling when Max pulled the car up in front of the “champion” banner, tears brimming up in the corners of your eyes as you watched him get out of the car.
A quick pose for the picture and then he was pulling off his helmet and balaclava, eyes searching across the many faces in the crowd until they finally met yours. And then he was running, a smile on his face as he reached you, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up to spin you around in joy, both of you laughing through choked sobs.
“You did it!” You said, your voice cracking. Max put you down, your feet now flat against the ground and you looked up at him, looping your arms around his neck as he leaned down to kiss you.
It was a desperate, passionate, raw and purely primal kind of kiss. The kind Max rarely allowed himself in public, but this was a special occasion. Open mouthed, his tongue stroking against your own, licking into your mouth desperately.
Finally the two of you pulled away, the loud cheers coming from the workers of RedBull filling your ears as everyone celebrated the win.
You part your lips, a breath coming out as your eyes meet with his and your lips twitch upwards into a smile. “Congratulations, champion.” You say, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek. “Go celebrate!”
Max nodded, leaning in for another kiss, shorter this time, and then going down to greet the rest of the team and celebrate with them before heading to the cool down car.
Once all the formal celebrations and interviews were down, and everyone gave their congratulations, Max went to search for you.
A brief talk with one of the mechanics let him know you were waiting for him in his driver's room and he wasted no time in making his way over there.
He twisted the door, stepping into the room and his eyes immediately scanning the small space until they landed on you, sitting on top of his massage table with legs dangling down, wearing one of by now very spottable shirts in the RedBull garage, with his name. M4X.
"Do you like the shirt?" You ask with a laugh, pushing your chest out a bit to show him the logo.
He hums, making his way across the room and to you, one of his hands grabbing your chin and lifting up your head to kiss you. "Love it," he replies, lips brushing against your own with each word he speaks.
You place your hands against his chest, pushing him back a bit, enough to give you space to jump down from the massage table. You circle around him, running your fingers along his shoulders and back.
“You looked so good today,” you purr in his ear, fingers grasping onto the zipper of his racing suit as you slowly start pulling it down. “A 4 time world champion. My world champion.”
Max groans at the words coming from your mouth and you take the moment to lean forward and press open mouthed kisses along the skin of his neck, licking against the spots you know are the most sensitive for him.
“Fuck, schatje.” He says, his voice coming out more as a broken whisper than what he intended.
You move your hands and start pushing down his race suit until it pools around his ankles and with just a second of effort he steps out of it, looking at you with wide eyes and pouty lips, almost as if begging for anything you want to give him, as long as it’s something.
“Go on and sit,” you tell him, gesturing towards one of the chairs in the room. For a second he’s completely still and you think maybe he hasn’t heard you but then he bolts towards the chair, practically tripping over his own two feet as he moves to sit down.
You pull down your pants and step out of them, the slightly colder Vegas air making goosebumps raise across the skin of your legs. You leave the shirt on, a pair of navy blue panties barely peeking out.
Max takes in a deep breath as you sink down onto your knees in front of him. “Wait!” He says, and you still instantly, you’re about to ask what’s wrong when he gets up to grab his discarded racing suit and pulls you up just enough to slip the fabric under your knees before moving back into the chair.
“Thank you, baby.” You smile at him, leaning forward and pressing kisses along the skin of his thigh, the muscles flexing due to him tensing up from your actions. “Now, I think my champion deserves a reward, isn’t that right?”
“Yes!” Max says, his voice overly excited but you can’t blame him. “Please.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you want.” You say, palming him over his boxers before sinking your fingers under the waistband. He lifts his hips in an effort to help you pull his boxers down and once you have them off you waste no time wrapping your hands around his already hard cock.
You slide your fingers over the slit, collecting the bits of precum that has already started leaking and using it as lube as you twist your hands down his dick. Max hisses, feeling pleasure overwhelm his senses as you lean forward, pressing a kiss onto the tip of his cock before opening your mouth and gently sucking on it.
Max’s moans are nearly pornographic, his cheeks flushed and lips open as moans and pleas slip past. You push your head further down, gliding your tongue along his length and pressing it just a bit against the vein running along the underside of his cock.
“You feel so good, schatje.” He says, his voice cracking. His hand cups the back of your head, fingers tangling into your hair as he pulls it into a makeshift ponytail to keep it out of your face.
He pushed your head down, not too rough, forcing you to take him deeper into your mouth until the tip is hitting the back of your throat and your nose is rubbing against his neatly trimmed base.
You hollow your cheeks around him, giving him a long suck before pulling your hair halfway up and then dropping it down again, gagging a little from the pressure at the back of your throat.
It doesn’t take long for you to feel Max’s thighs tensing and slightly shaking as he approaches the edge of his orgasm, the grip of his fingers in your hair tightening.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He moans out, hips lifting off the chair as he thrusts his dick into your mouth, chasing the warmth around his dick. “So good, schatje, so good." Gonna make me cum.”
Encouraged by his words you speed up your movements, bobbing your head along his dick faster until you feel him twitch inside of you, and then filling your mouth with his hot cum. You pull off his slowly softening cock, letting it slip past your lips, and swallow.
You smile at him as you eye the mess on his cock and then teasingly lean back down to lick him clean. “You did so good baby,” you tell him, pressing your lips against his briefly as you go to stand up.
Max stands up, one of his knees buckling slightly, he leans down and grabs his boxers and pulls them up. “I didn’t get the podium today but this was so much better.” He says, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
You laugh in response, pressing your lips against the palm of his hand. “Come on, champ, get dressed.” You say, the tone of your voice teasing. “We’re hitting the clubs tonight.”
“Or maybe I’ll be hitting your cervix tonight.”
A laugh slips past your lips, your tongue darting out to lick them. “Maybe after a few drinks and some dancing.”
#f1 fic#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 fanfic#f1 x female reader#formula 1 x reader#formula one imagine#formula 1 x you#formula 1#dia writes#max verstappen x y/n#max verstappen x you#max x reader#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen smut#mv33 x reader#mv33#mv33 x you#f1 smut#f1 imagine
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lunch or launch ? | rúben dias
summary; just you and your boyfriend soft launching your relationship until your bf hard launch one day out of boredom
pairing; rúben dias x influencer!reader
warnings; swearing ? english is still not my first language ahaha
an; didn't see a lot of content for one of my fav player like i never knew he was (i would say idk ?) underrated so here is a smau with loml rúben dias
fc; natasha aris
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rubendias race weekend ! 🏎
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username so pretty
bellahadid gorgeous
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▮ yourusername the perks of having a boyfriend and your minuses of being single, sorry babe
▮ bffusername YOU CUNT
username oh she's so mother
username y'all can hard launch ! 😄please or else
rubendias - mykonos, greece
liked by yourusername, bffusername and 435k others !
rubendias lunch or launch ?
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yourusername BABE WHAT
yourusername WHY ? YOU'RE CRAZY LD QKLJZDE
▮ rubendias out of boredom ? 😅
▮ yourusername THAT'S NOT A REASON YOU'RE CRAZY
▮ rubendias i wanted to show that you're mine 😠
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username I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I DIDNT MAKE THAT THREAD FOR NOTHING
username they were so (not) discreet
bffusername finally
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username *quick lets all act shocked*
yourusername - tulum, mexico
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yourusername when i'm better at hard launching than him 🤓
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rubendias you're fr the prettiest woman i've ever met
▮ yoursername awww ily
username alexa play that should be me by justin bieber
username i bet they've been dating for like several years and decided to hard launch their relationship just today
▮ yourusername actwwwually 🤓☝️ it's been three years during the trip in mykonos lol
▮ username THE HELL ??? Y/N???????
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username it's always been the other MAN 😡
username i would kill to date THE y/n
landonorris i've waited for three and half years, that portuguese man did it in one week 😣
▮ rubendias boy ?
▮ landonorris ahaha im joking rúben 😅….
▮ carlossainz55 im snitching she was his celebrity crush LOL
▮ rubendias well too bad for you little boy 🤓
▮ landonorris i’m not a little boy rúben…😖
yourusername posted a story
rubendias posted a story
#aeribbon#football#footballer x reader#football x reader#football x y/n#ruben dias#ruben dias x you#smau#football smau#man city#footballer#ruben dias x reader#ruben dias one shot#football one shot
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What Will They Say About Us?
Pairing: Ruben Dias x Reader
Summary: When you faint while dropping off the kids at your ex-husband Ruben’s place, his worry stirs up feelings he thought were gone. Now he’s realizing he never stopped loving you—and maybe it’s not too late to try again.
Word Count: 2008
E o que vão dizer de nós Se formos na estrada em contramão Se decidirmos estar a sós E seguir noutra direção?
Your head pounded as you drove your kids to Ruben's. It was his week with them, and despite the ache in your head and the exhaustion tugging at your body, you felt a flicker of relief.
You weren’t sure what was happening, but your head felt heavy, your limbs like they’d been dragged through gravel, and your eyes barely stayed open.
"Mommy?" Your daughter's voice, snapped you from your thoughts.
"Yes, sweetie?" You managed, glancing at her in the rearview mirror.
Her small figure was buckled in beside her older brother. "I think I left Fuzzy at home."
You muttered a quiet curse. You’d been so distracted that you hadn’t double-checked they’d packed everything. "You’ve got other toys at Daddy’s, honey." You said, hoping it’d be enough, but her lower lip quivered.
“But… I want Fuzzy!” She whispered.
Ruben’s building came into view, and as you pulled into the garage, the sound of rain softened. You turned off the car, pausing to gather yourself before stepping out.
When you got out, a dizzy wave overtook you, but you shook it off quickly, heading to help the kids. Your son climbed out with his blue backpack, a gift from Ruben last Christmas. On the other side, you picked up your daughter, whose tears tugged at your heart.
With her on your hip and your son following behind, you made your way toward the elevator.
Inside Ruben’s apartment, he’d just finished making his son’s bed when the doorbell rang. His face lit up as he opened the door.
"Dad!" Your son’s voice filled the entryway as he launched himself at Ruben.
"Hey, buddy!" Ruben hugged him tightly, chuckling as he held him close. "I missed you."
From your arms, your daughter’s quiet sniffle drew Ruben’s gaze. "Oh, babysgirl, why the tears?"
"I left Fuzzy at Mommy’s!" She whispered. Fuzzy, her beloved stuffed animal, had been a gift from your friends when she was born, and she wouldn’t go anywhere without it.
You rubbed her back soothingly. "I’ll bring him tomorrow, promise."
Ruben’s eyes flicked to you, noticing how pale you looked, even your voice sounded diferent. "Hey, why don’t you both get your bags to your room?" He suggested to the kids. He must’ve hoped for a quick word with you, but your daughter had other ideas.
"Mommy, can you help me?" She asked, her little hand grabbing yours.
You smiled weakly. "Of course, sweetie."
Ruben’s place hadn’t changed. Walking through it, it still felt like pieces of you lingered in every room, every decoration.
In her room, you put her bag on the bed, helping unpack a few things. She spotted one of her toys on the shelf and squealed. "Look, Mommy! Daddy got me this one!" She held it up, but it was suddenly hard to see her. The room tilted, colors swirling, and then blackness.
"MOMMY!" Ruben heard his daughter shout, pausing his conversation with his son. "DADDY?" She shouted again, this time for him. Her voice was frightened.
Your daughter’s panicked shout freezed Ruben and in an instant, he was on his feet, racing toward her room.
Inside, his heart dropped. You were slumped on the floor, unconscious, with his daughter kneeling beside you, tears streaming down her face.
Ruben knelt beside you, gently cupping your face. "Y/N?" His voice wavered, and he fought to stay calm. Even after everything, the sight of you like this terrified him. You were still his children’s mother, still someone he loved deeply, even if things hadn’t worked out.
Behind him, his son’s worried voice called. "Mom?" Ruben quickly placed a gentle hand on his arm.
"Stay back, buddy. Everything’s okay." He turned to his daughter, his voice softening. "Aurora, what happened?"
"I don’t know." she sniffled. "She just fell."
"Did she hit her head?"
She shook her head. "No."
Without hesitation, Ruben slid an arm under your shoulders and the other under your knees, lifting you with ease. It had been a long time since he’d held you like this.
In his room, he carefully laid you on the bed, brushing a strand of hair from your face. You were still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He glanced back at his kids. "I’m going to get help. Miguel, take care of your sister, alright?"
Miguel nodded, holding his sister close as Ruben stepped out. His neighbor upstairs, a retired doctor, came to mind, and Ruben rushed out, hoping for help.
You and Ruben had been together for a long time, marrying when you discovered you were having your first child, Miguel. Two years later, you had Aurora, and two years after that, you were getting a divorce.
The divorce was mutual and friendly. While there was no denying that you still loved each other, things simply weren't working out as a couple at that time.
It was not the first time you had fainted in front of Ruben. Unfortunately, you had a very weak constitution when it came to sickness, and Ruben had lost count of how many times you had fainted over the years.
You opened your eyes slowly, the edges of consciousness creeping back in. Everything ached, and your head felt like a metal concert.
"Oh." You whispered, placing your hand on your head.
Blinking, you realized you were in Ruben’s bedroom, your old bedroom. Same room, same bed.
Outside, through the large window, the sun was setting, meaning you had been unconscious for a few hours. The kids’ laughter carried faintly from somewhere in the apartment. When you pushed yourself upright, a glass of water and a small pill sat on the nightstand, likely left by Ruben.
As you walked to the kitchen, careful to steady yourself, you found him and the kids laughing, spreading sauce on pizza dough. The sight was cozy and bittersweet, like a glimpse into the life you might have had together if things had gone differently.
"Mommy!" Aurora’s excited cry rang out, and she hurried to hug your legs, Miguel following close behind.
Ruben’s gaze softened as he took you in, relief visible in the way his shoulders relaxed. "You should still be resting." He said, his voice warm and gentle.
You managed a small smile. "I’m fine, really. I should get going, though."
"If you think I’m letting you leave like this, you’re definitely insane." He said, a teasing smile in his voice.
"Mom, we’re making pizza! Stay, please?" Miguel chimed in, his eyes hopeful.
"Pleeeease?" Aurora’s voice melted you.
You glanced at Ruben, catching that familiar smile, the one that once - and still - made your heart race. "Alright, just for dinner." You relented, laughing as the kids celebrated.
As you helped Ruben with the pizzas, the kids darted around setting the table, occasionally distracted by the TV.
You looked over at Ruben as he closed the oven. "Did I… faint?"
He leaned against the counter, his expression softening with concern. "You did. I had forgotten how frightening it is to see you like that." He paused. "The upstairs neighbor said it’s probably the flu, or a virus. You should see your doctor."
"Thanks for looking out for me."
He glanced down, then back up, his voice quieter. "When was the last time this happened? I mean, when we were together, it didn't happen since Miguel was just a baby."
You nodded. "Yeah, it’s been a while."
Ruben was about to say something more, but Miguel ran up, breaking the moment. "Mom, is the pizza ready yet?"
Having dinner with the kids and Ruben felt like a dream. Maybe you were still unconscious, or perhaps you were hallucinating. But if you were, you didn't want to wake up.
After dinner, the kids persuaded you to stay a little longer to watch a movie. You could feel the fatigue lingering, but their excited faces made it hard to refuse.
Soon, you were all curled up on the couch, with the kids nestled between you and Ruben, Aurora leaning against you while Miguel's head rested on his father’s shoulder.
As the movie played, you felt a strange mix of nostalgia and comfort. It reminded you of all those nights the four of you used to spend together. Ruben’s quiet chuckle at a funny moment stirred memories—how much that sound used to make you feel safe, like no matter what was happening outside these walls, here you were home.
Aurora’s soft breathing grew steady and even, her little head heavy against your arm. Miguel was already fast asleep, his face peaceful. Carefully, you glanced over to Ruben. He met your eyes, both of you sharing an unspoken understanding. Wordlessly, you each picked up a child, cradling them with the practiced ease of parents who’d done this countless times.
In Aurora’s room, you tucked her in, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. Her small hand reached out, clasping your fingers for a moment before she drifted back into sleep.
In the hall, Ruben stood waiting, Miguel already settled in his own bed. You both made your way back to the living room, the air heavy with the unsaid things that lingered between you.
"I should get going." You whispered, grabbing your coat from the armrest of the couch. But as you turned, Ruben’s hand reached out, gently wrapping around your arm.
"Wait." His voice was soft. He let out a slow breath, his fingers lingering on your arm. "Please… don’t go. Stay the nigh, you'll feel better in the morning.”
You looked at him, heart pounding as his gaze met yours, filled with an intensity you hadn’t seen in a long time.
"I was… scared today." He began, voice low. "When I saw you on the floor like that… I felt completely helpless. I realized that no matter how much time has passed, I still care, more than I want to admit sometimes." You opened your mouth to respond, but he contine it. "I never stopped caring, Y/N. I never stopped loving you. Not for a day, not even for a minute."
Your breath caught as his words sank in, his hand still holding your wrist.
"Ruben…" You whispered, barely able to get the words out.
He took a step closer, his gaze unwavering. "I know things didn’t work out between us back then. But part of me will always wonder… if we gave up too soon."
A lump rose in your throat, and tears pricked at your eyes as you met his gaze. "You really think we could try again?"
"I do!" He answered softly, cupping your face. "And I know it won’t be simple, not with everything we have at stake now. But I also know… that letting you go was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. And I don’t want to spend another day wondering if we could have been something more"
You took a shaky breath. "But, Ruben, what happens if it doesn’t work out? We have kids now. They need us steady. What if we just… fall apart all over again?"
His expression softened, as he lifted your hand to his chest, placing it over his heartbeat. "Then we try again. And again. Because no matter how many times we fall, as long as you’re there, I want to keep trying."
His breath caught, and then his lips met yours, soft and familiar. The kiss was slow and tender, his hands framing your face as if afraid to let go. His lips felt like heaven against yours. You missed his touch, you missed his lips, you missed him."
When you finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, both of you breathless. "Stay tonight." He whispered, voice barely above a murmur. “Let me take care of you."
You nodded, the answer coming so easily, your hand still pressed over his heartbeat. And as you stood there, wrapped in his arms, you realized that maybe the pieces of your love had never really broken at all. They’d simply been waiting, patient for you to find your way back to each other.
#ruben dias#ruben dias x you#ruben dias x y/n#ruben dias x reader#ruben dias imagine#footballer x y/n#footballer x reader#footballer imagine#football imagine
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Why does he stand like that tho , lol-
#obey me#obey me shall we date#om swd#obey me mc#obey me crack#obey me lucifer#om lucifer#obey me x reader crack#obey me memes#obey me diavolo#om diavolo#obey me diavolo x you#obey me diavolo fluff#obey me diavolo x mc#obey me diavolo x reader#om dia#omswd diavolo#funny obey me#obey me chaos
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Helping Hands
Ruben Dias x Fem!Reader
Warnings: ruben and reader have a kid! (he's 5), boy dad!ruben, most of the man city squad is in this (kalvin too even tho he's not here anymore lol), mr pep makes an appearance, birthday surprises (yes I know ruben's birthday isn't until may lol), sweetness all around, reader and the guys have a good relationship, one big family vibes.
Word Count: 1.9k
Author's Note: is it really a big shock that this one is for @themandaloriansdiaries - I only ever write ruben when she asks lmaooo.
--
"Mama! Come on!" Chris, your son, tugged on your hand as you carried the bags.
Ruben's birthday was today and the two of you had gotten up to wish him happy birthday before he left, even making sure to make birthday pancakes - Chris's request, despite it being his father's birthday.
Your husband had gone in for training today and he wasn't aware that the two of you were coming with a special surprise for him. Once you're checked in at the front, Chris makes a beeline for the stairs, running up and straight to the office of none other than Pep.
You didn't get a chance to stop him before he opened the door, not bothering to knock as he knew he had Mr. Pep - his nickname for the man- wrapped around his finger.
"Chris!" The man smiled when he saw the little brown-haired boy running into his office. He picks him up, giving him a good squeeze before putting him down.
"Hi Mr. Pep! Do you have any candy?" The boy looks around, peeking into a bowl on the desk. "Check the drawer, kid." He retells him, walking over to hug you hello.
Chris had made himself comfortable in Pep's chair, munching on a Kit Kat while spinning around.
Pep's hand rests on your arm, smiling at you. "What brings you two in today?"
"Just setting up a few things for Ruben's birthday. Chris wanted to celebrate with him and the guys."
"Oh," Pep nods. "Do you need help? Do you want me to get some of the stuff to help you?"
"No no, that's okay. Don't disturb them, it's just hanging up a few balloons and a banner Chris made, we got it. Right buddy?"
Chris nods, giving you a thumbs up with sticky, chocolate covered fingers.
Pep laughs, walking over to wipe Chris's hands with a tissue. "Okay, let me know if you need anything."
You and Chris were off to the cafeteria, taking the long way around as you knew Ruben would be in the gym right now. Chris sits himself down by the window, looking out in the pitch as you unpack the stuff from the bags, passing the balloons to him to start blowing them up; it would keep him occupied for long enough that you could set up whatever else you needed too.
As you tried to unravel the banner Chris was making at home, you heard footsteps behind you and Chris got up, running over to whoever was over there. You turn to see John, balancing the cake in one hand and rubbing Chris's brown hair with the other hand.
"Hi uncle Johnny!" Chris smiled at the man, John smiled back at him. "Hi buddy, how are you?"
"Good! It's daddy's birthday today!"
John nods, "I know, I got the cake, see?" He bends down to show Chris the cake before taking it into the kitchen to put it in the fridge so it doesn't melt.
"Thank you for picking it up," you tell him when he comes back, Chris holding his hand and bringing him over to the table where he was sitting.
"Anytime."
"Help me blow up balloons, uncle Johnny!" Chris passes him a handful of balloons, sitting on his chair as he starts on his own.
Despite having to get to the gym, John sat with Chris and blew up all of the balloons. For every 6 balloons John blew up, Chris blew one. The boy passed the slobbered covered balloon to his uncle who happily tied it; even if he had to wipe his fingers off on his pants after each one.
Once they're done, John gets up. "I have to get to training, buddy. I'll be back at lunch time and I'll bring your dad with me, okay?"
"Okay!" Chris gave John a five high before turning his attention back to the balloons. You wave John off as you start to attempt to bundle the balloons together.
"Baby, why don't you finish up on your banner for daddy? The crayons are in the green bag over there." You nod towards the bag on the chair, Chris nods and walks over to get the crayons before sitting where you had spread out the banner.
You managed to get a few balloons bundled together before you started on the arch, your back was turned to the doorway and you hadn't heard anyone come in.
Kyle had seen Chris about to get up and signalled for him to stay sitting and to be quiet, pointing to you and motioning surprise with his hands. Chris got the just of it and nodded, his little hand covering his mouth to stop him from giggling.
The cold fingers pinch your shoulders, causing you to jump. "What the f- fudge!" You stopped mid swear, shouting before turning to see who it was. Both Kyle and Chris were giggling now, you smacked Kyle on the head with a balloon.
"You're so annoying, Kyle." Groaning, you turn your attention back to the balloon arch you were assembling. The man ignores your comment, making his way over to Chris at the table.
His arms on either side of Chris's chair as he stands behind him, his chin on the boy's head. "Whatcha working on, bud?"
"A banner for daddy! Look how cool my football is," he points towards the football he had drawn in the corner.
"That's really good, I couldn't even draw a circle." He laughed. "Who are these guys?" Kyle asks him, pointing out the few guys Chris had drawn around the ball.
"Well this one is Eddie," he points to the man by the net, wearing bright green. "This one is daddy, uncle Jack, uncle Johnny and this one is you, uncle walks." He points to the one on the left.
Kyle stifles a laugh. "Chris, why is my head so big?"
"Because mama said you have a big head." Chris shrugs, going back to working on his drawings.
The man looks over at you with a raised eyebrow, and you shrug just as Chris did. "It's true, now come be useful and hold this." You stuck the end of the arch out to Kyle, the man coming over to hold it as you filled in the extra balloons that needed to fit in.
He helps you get it up and over the window, along with the streamers before you thank him and climb down from the chair. When you turned around, you found more of the guys had come in as it was pretty close to lunch time.
Jack was sitting with Chris, the two of them chatting about some cartoon they both watch when Jack comes over while Kalvin helped to colour in the letters that Chris had traced.
Everything was coming together, all that needed to be done was put the banner up and get the cake out from the fridge. Erling had come in with Kevin and Kevin offered himself to get the cake as he knew Erling and Jack would probably start bickering about something as soon as he saw the taller man make a bee line for his friend.
Ederson and Stefan were the next two that came in. Erling and Stefan hung the banner up, Jack handing pieces of tape to Chris to stick on the banner. Ederson had Chris up on his shoulders so he could reach it and Rodri gave them thumbs up of approval, letting them know that the banner was hung straight.
Kevin sets the cake on the table, taking it out of the box while you search for the candles in the bag. "Oh crap, I forgot the candles at home."
"I think we have some from John and Kyle's birthday last week," Nathan tells you, walking over to the cabinet to search for them. He returns a moment later with a half pack of candles and a lighter.
Chris helps Nathan stick the candles into the cake; all 27 which is how old he was turning this year.
Everything was set, the rest of the players had come in and even pep had made his way down for the little celebration. All of you were by the window, waiting until you heard someone coming to light the candles.
The big banner above you read happy birthday daddy! in several different coloured crayons, all coloured in and out of the lines - depended on who coloured it.
You look at Chris, fixing his shirt as Ederson held him and you made sure he looked okay. You brushed away the cookie crumbs from earlier before looking around to make sure everyone was there. Jack, who was beside you, also had the same cookie crumbs on his shirt and you brushed those off too.
The sound of John's laughter came from the hallway, followed by the clicking of Bernardo's slides as he never wore them properly. That meant Ruben would be right behind them.
"What are you recording for?" You hear your husband's voice, one of his friend's had their phone out as they were coming in.
Bernardo and John push the double doors open, John stepping into the room to catch Ruben's reaction.
"Surprise!" Everyone shouts, the boys cheering, clapping and whistling for their friend.
Ruben stood there shocked, taking it all in. The handmade banner, streamers, balloons, the cake, all his teammates and most importantly, his wife and his son.
Ederson put Chris down, the little boy running to his dad who picks him up. "Do you like it?!" Chris practically shouts in his dad's ear. Ruben chuckles, nodding. "I love it, Chris. Thank you."
He gives him a hug, putting him down. "Do you like the banner? And the colours I picked?"
"You used all my favourites." He ruffles Chris's fluffy brown hair, identical to his own. Chris clapped, grinning at his father as he ran over to Jack. "Told you!" You hear Chris tell Jack, the two of them laughing.
You walk over to your husband, hugging him. "Surprise, baby."
Ruben kisses your head, "thank you, babe. You didn't have to do all this, you know."
"I know," you say. "I had some help." You nodded towards his teammates behind you.
Ruben leans down to kiss you, his hand on your jaw as he does. "Okay okay, break it up." Kevin calls for you two, "the candles are gonna melt."
You hold Ruben's hand, bringing him over to the table with the cake, Chris standing on the chair on the left to his dad and you're tucked under Ruben's arm on the right. All of his teammates on the other side of the table, John was still recording as Jack started the horribly off key rendition of happy birthday, which was being sung in at least 5 different languages at the moment.
Ruben pulls you and Chris with him, blowing out all 27 candles on the cake. "Happy birthday, babe." You kisses his cheek, Chris swiping some frosting and rubbing it on the other side of his dad's face.
#ruben dias#ruben dias x reader#ruben dias x you#ruben dias x y/n#ruben dias imagine#ruben dias one shot#football x reader#football x you#football x y/n#football imagine#football fanfic#football fluff#football fic#football one shot#footballer x reader#footballer x y/n#footballer x you#footballer imagine
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jack of all trades, rúben dias
genre: fluff, domestic fluff.
summary: when rúben declines your help to paint your baby's room, you can't hold back your tears. luckily, rúben not only knows how to paint a room, but also stop your tears.
warnings: none.
this fic is a repost of my old previous work on 808heartz.
The straps of his denim overalls sat loosely on his toned shoulders, slipping occasionally and he couldn't be bothered to fix it, focused on the strokes of paint that he was applying on the primed walls.
Rúben was pleased with himself: he didn't consider himself a painter or a carpenter, and hell, he knew he wasn't a journeyman, but he was convinced that he was in another life. He had built the crib, not from scratch, but damn near close, and he made sure it was sturdy-something that was of equal concern to the both of you, but especially for him. He had even learned how to paint the walls, and the process, making sure it was plastered and primed before he even dragged the coated brush against the wall.
"You're full of surprises, you know that?"
He turned to you and grinned, feeling his cheeks flush as the sight of your belly— almost eight months, yet you looked as if you were ready to pop at any moment, and he still couldn't wrap his head around at how quickly time had went by in your pregnancy. He thought everything he's been told about time flying was a lie, as it only felt like just yesterday you told him that the two of you were expecting.
"How'd I get so lucky with you?" You smiled as you waddled into the room, feeling as if getting to where he stood took hours from the seconds it actually was.
Your hand rested on the small of his neck and he looked down at you, brown eyes soft and full of light as he reached down to press a kiss against your lips.
Ruben's cheeks were still full with a sweet warmth, getting shy at your praises. "I got lucky with you," He sighed in content, and of course, he couldn't forget about your baby-setting down the paint brush, so his hands could caress your belly. "And you, too."
The kicks against your belly were no longer a shock to you, but they always took him by a surprise; swearing that there was a world class footballer in-the-making cooking in your stomach right now. The baby always seemed to love the compliment whenever Rúben would make it, as if she knew what he meant already, and took it literally, kicking restlessly whenever his hands laid on your stomach.
"You always know how to get her riled up."
His smile was cheeky, yet embarrassed: this was like a dream to him, something he'd only seen once and knew he had to make happen the moment he knew loved you. He's a father now, and his joy was uncontrollable-something that made the experience of carrying your baby even sweeter.
"What can I say?" Rúben shrugged, picking up the paint brush again. "She already loves her daddy."
The brush moved with a swift and gentle purpose, coating the walls as you watched him in awe.
You didn't know how he picked such a perfect color.
Of course, his newfound extensive knowledge on the most stimulating room colors for babies must've helped him a ton, but his attention to detail and all the handy work was beginning to make you feel as if you weren't doing enough now.
Granted, the forty-weeks were catching up to you, and bed rest was something your body craved nowadays, but you felt bad about Rúben doing this on his own.
Even if he didn't mind.
"Do you want me to help?"
Ruben's head cocked to the side as he sent you a knowing look, one that told you to not ask that again.
It's not that he didn't want your help, but there was no need, and as much as he tried to shout that from the rooftops, the two of you knew that you were too stubborn for your own good. Though, that wouldn't stop him from trying to get you to rest, just for a single second: you carrying his baby was enough for him, you didn't need to do anything else.
"Actually, you can help me with something." He smiled, and with one final swipe of the paint brush, he set it down before grabbing your hand. He carefully escorted you over to the rocking chair-that he built-in the corner of the room, where the rest of the decorations waited to be put to use after he finished painting, and ushered for you to sit down.
"Sit down and rest."
He laughed softly when the beaming smile on your lips fell, replaced with a scowl full of annoyance.
"I'm not gonna break from lifting up a paint brush, you know." You scoffed, plopping down on the rocking chair-a sturdy chair at that, just another thing to be in awe of Rúben and his talent. You could feel your mood changing though, and you damned your hellish pregnancy hormones, letting the tears drip down your cheeks. "Why won't you let me help you?" Your voice was meek, but the quivering of your lips and heavy breaths made your crying sound more intense than it was.
Rúben's hand fell onto your jaw, his thumb brushing over your chin, and he kneeled in front of you with a soft sigh. He made your teary eyes meet his gaze, a look that broke his heart instantaneously, and he felt like a piece of shit, despite him only wanting the best for you and the baby. Your name fell from his lips in a gentle whisper, as if he were trying to bring you right back to center.
"I'm sorry for not letting you help, meu amor," He spoke softly, tone filled with an astronomical amount of empathy and understanding that only he could ever possess. His other hand grabbed yours, intertwining them, and he held it close to his clothed chest. "I just wanted you to rest, like the doctor said. You've been so tired, and our baby girl isn't making it any easier for you... I thought me taking care of the room was going to help you relax more."
"I just feel like you've been doing all the work and I've done nothing but sit here…. and be…. be pregnant."
Your sniffling made his heart ache; he was ready to give you every single paint brush and let you work, but his desire to take care of you and carry every stressor of yours on his shoulders was stronger than he could fight. That's just who he was, and you couldn't help but love him for that.
"I'll tell you what, anjo," Rúben began to propose, and thanks to his soft grin, you suddenly felt better.
"How about you help me with this wall? And if you feel okay after, we can paint the next one together."
The gentle nod in response of yours resulted in his toothy grin, and he helped you up from the rocking chair, even walking you over to the half painted wall.
He was too courteous: coating the brush with paint, knowing that you could barely bend over now, and he handed it to you, smiling when you took it.
As your hand inched towards the wall, his eyes never left it. He was whispering gentle affirmations, soft compliments, when you would brush the paint onto the wall, just wanting to make you feel important and included. He didn't even care that you would hand him back the brush when you needed more paint—he'd be your cheerleader and get all the paint for you.
"You're gonna be an amazing dad, Ruben."
Your soft and sudden murmur made his cheeks flush, an unexpected comment that left him speechless.
That's all he wanted to be, in your eyes. He felt his heart quicken up as his lips turned up into an appreciative smile, the thought of your daughter arriving so soon, and how he'd take care of her just like how he takes care of you: him, and his heart, couldn't wait.
tag list: @lettersofgold @afterpills
#ruben dias imagine#ruben dias fic#ruben dias x reader#ruben dias x you#ruben dias x y/n#football imagine#football x reader#football x you#football x y/n#99musings: the dad series.
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dad!ruben plissss🥹
You ask and I deliver😌 However, I'm sorry if this not what you wanted nor expected, did this at 3am😭 sorry. Let me know what you think, please!
O Meu Pai -R.D3
Summary: Vitória is daddy's little girl and her daddy, Rúben, loves her
"Toya, c'mon baby" You spoke lightly "C'mon we've to get you ready para irmos ao aniversário da avó Bernadette!" (so we can go to grandma Bernadette's birthday!)
"Are you and Pai matching?" You smile nodding
"And so are you, dear" You kiss your babygirl's four years old hair before getting out of her closet a light blue dress to match outifts with you and your six years husband, Rúben.
You listen to her sing some children's songs as you got her clothes on her, as soon as you turned around to grab her shoes a knock on your door came in.
"Como estão as minhas meninas?" (How are my girls, doing?) Rúben asks pecking inside the room "Meu Deus!" (My god!) He gasps "You are so pretty!"
"Pai!" Vitória yelled in your ear as you were putting her shoes on
"Don't yell in mamã's ear, baby" You tell her with a small smile getting behind her to do her hair
"Sorry, mommy" She said softly kissing your hand.
You smile looking at Rúben who has a loving look on his face, whenever he tells you "Sorry" he gives a kiss on your hands or cheeks and your daughter picked up on it.
"No worries, baby" You kissed her cheek too and start working on her hair.
"Vitória, did you get your present for avó Bernadette?" Rúben asks, sitting next to her
"I did! I did a drawing for her!"
"Where's is it? Let me put in the bag so we don't forget about it"
"Right there!" She lifts her arm and points to her small table.
Rúben gets up from the floor and goes to her table to grab the drawing she made, you see the smile on his face and instantly smiled to yourself. You finished her ponytail and secured the small braid you did at the side.
"Vitória, baby. Why don't you go to the living room and play for a bit with Simba and Nala?"
"Is everything alright?" She asks seeing her dad silent
"Yes, babygirl." You say "I gotta talk to daddy really quick"
"But make it quick 'cus we're going to be late!" She says before getting out of her room.
"Just like her dad" Rúben laughs softly "Everything good?" You get up and stand right next to him
"I just can't help but think our baby's growing so fast. She used to draw the big and happy sun at the side of the paper, now she does it on the middle!"
"She's still young, Rú" You giggle "Also, she's learning that the sun comes out from one side and hides from the other, maybe she drew this in the early afternoon?"
"Or maybe she's just growing up?"
"Well, that's life and it's cyrcle" You kiss his shoulder "You're still going to be the man of her life, always. You know it, right?" He nods
"Until she gets married"
"No. You'll still be" You shake your head "But there's a long way until that happens. So let's enjoy her and her early life before she turns 18, starts brining guys home and wants to do a piercing"
"That will not happen!" You laugh kissing his lips
"You're cute. C'mon, grab the drawing and let's go. We'll be late if we stay here and missy Vitória Y/L/N Dias, doesn't like being late"
"She really doesn't"
"I'm telling you, just like her dad" He wraps his arm around your waist, pull you closer to him and kisses your lips softly
"You look gorgeous"
"And you look extremely handsome, love"
"My wife picked this outfit for me"
"She's a fashionista" You whisper before kissing him once again
"Mãe! Pai! Hurry up, we'll be late!" You open the door from her room as you both went out
"Toya, come on babygirl! Let's get to grandma's!" Rúben says before you hear a small "Finally!"
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"A mãe e o pai estavam a demorar muito tempo!" (Mom and Dad were taking too long!)
"Guys" Iván, your brother in law says looking at you and at Rúben "Keep it in your pants"
"Jeez, we weren't doing anything!" You reply "We were actually talking about Vitória's boyfriends?"
"Do you have boyfriend's, Vitória?"
"No! They are little ugly monsters who will only infect me!" She said before running to her dad's legs
"That's right, baby" Rúben says, you give him a look but he doesn't act on it
"Boys will not infect you, Toya" Beatrix, one of your in-laws, says with a small smile
"Either way! I don't wanna be contaminated" Toya says nuzzled in her dad's shoulders, her small arms wrapping around his neck
"Jesus Christ" You mumble to yourself before taking a deep breath
"That's my girl!"
"Rúben!" All of you scolded him as he opened his eyes and mouth
"My daughter, my ways to evite her heartbreak"
"Filho" (Son) Joao, Rúben's dad, says softly with a small smile "You're just like me"
"Like father, like son" Bernadette says making you all laugh.
"Hey, Vi" Carolina asks "Want for me to paint your face?"
"No. Pai"
"C'mon, minha filha" (my babygirl) "I bet you'd look pretty with a pretty drawing and some glitter on your cheek. Would you like that?" She nods
"But I want to cuddle with you, pai"
"You behave like a good girl with your tia and then we will cuddle while watching some cartoons and eating some food mamã and avó did, what do you think?"
"Yes, please" Rúben put her down watching Vitória run towards her tia and then laughing with her.
"I think she's too spoiled by you" Your voice comes in through the now empty living room
"Nah, I don't think so" Rúben smiles "She's just my babygirl"
"And you're her pai. She definitely preferes you over me"
"That's not true" You give him a look and after some silence he answered. "She's just a daddy's little girl, that's normal"
"She is"
"I love it"
"I know you do"
"I love you"
"And I love you too, Rú" You smile
"Can we start practicing for a sister or brother for her?"
"You want another one? Right now?"
"I do" He nods "You?"
"I do" He smiles getting closer to you so he can kiss your lips "How do you think she'll react to a sibling?"
"Mad because you are hers, I'm hers and nobody else's"
"We will have to explain that to her" You nod
"But let's wait 'till baby is in the oven" You mention your tummy "once that happens we can start planning everything"
"You're getting lucky as soon as we're getting home" You laugh blushing. Thank heavens you were the only ones in the room.
"Mãe! Pai!" Toya's voice gets closer "Look at the bee, tia made!"
"You look so pretty!" Rúben says impressed "So you're the queen bee, right?"
"I'm princess Bee, mãe's Queen Bee and you're King Bee, pai" She gave you a kiss on the cheek and a kiss to her dad.
"That's correct, love" Rúben kisses her non-draw cheek. "Ready to cuddle for a bit? What do you want to watch?"
"Barbie Princess and the Pauper!"
"You always know my favorites, don't you?" Rúben asks underneath his breath as he gets into the couch finding a nice and comfy spot
"That's why I ask for them, they're our favorites!"
"We need to sing our hearts out!" Toya laughs shaking her head
"Pai, this isn't our house to yell"
"Well, I'm sorry. But we can't watch a Barbie movie without feeling it at it's fullness"
"You're right, pai; so let's sing it then!"
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Taglist: @gaviymarcsbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela
#gadriezmannsgirl replies#gadriezmannsgirl writes!#ruben dias#ruben dias x reader#ruben dias imagine#ruben dias fic#ruben dias one shot#portugal nt#manchester city#man city#football players#football players one shot#football fanfic#football players x reader#football players imagines#ruben dias x you
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