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#rúben dias one shot
footballffbarbiex · 8 months
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player: Rúben Dias words: 2.8k type: angst
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Let's fast forward to three hundred awkward blind dates later
If she's got blue eyes, I will surmise that you'll probably date her
You dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor
You search in every model's bed for something greater
Everything you were learning about Rúben is completely against your will and though you’re trying to not let it get under your skin and bury deep into your muscles, you still feel any and all nuggets of information grating against your nerves. So it doesn’t surprise you when your best friend opens her mouth and says “he’s been spotted with another model.” but it does feel like salt is being rubbed onto those nerves too. 
“Of course he has,” it comes out a little more bitterly than you’d intended and so you swallow some wine instead to stop yourself from saying anything else that you might regret. 
“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what she looks like.” she continues, observing you over the rim of her own glass before she takes a small drink herself. 
It’s started to become a running joke for the two of you. You weren’t good enough for Rúben but he was happy to date every woman that remotely resembles you after you. It was a kick in the teeth each time you were faced with another photo of him and his latest beau and a mere mention of someone new feels like a slap. 
“Kurt wants to know if you’ll come to dinner on Wednesday.” She changes the subject, knowing that this is a sore spot but it was better that she told you now than being sent it by someone else who believes they’re doing you a favour while not being considerate of your feelings at all. 
“No.” You say a little too quickly. 
Kurt was one of Rúben’s best friends and if he was hosting a dinner party, then your ex would be there too. You felt suffocated at the best of times merely seeing his name via google or instagram, let alone being made to share the same four walls and a table with the man. 
Ex feels too strongly of a word considering you’d barely got past the dating stage. Rúben refused to put a label on the two of you and while you weren’t usually one for wanting them, you did try to ask him where you stood in the situationship. Especially because you were catching feelings, fast and hard and the idea of him not wanting to commit to you pained you more than it scared you. Ultimately, Rúben ended the … situation due to ‘commitment issues’, but had no issues with finding the ability to do so with other people. 
“He was invited initially but according to their match fixtures, they have an away Champions League game.” She comments, drumming her fingers on the side of the glass in a beat that you almost recognise. 
“I applaud your extensive research before coming to me with Kurt’s invitation.” 
“I knew you’d back out almost immediately otherwise -”
“And I did.” 
She hums in agreement. 
“At least consider it? I’d love to see you there anyway.” 
_
You’ve checked and checked and checked again more times than you wanted to admit that Rúben absolutely was out of the country ready for the game tomorrow. With no updates regarding rotations or suspensions from previous games, you’d found it “safe” to leave the comfort of your home and make your way to Kurt’s. 
Having Rúben end the relationship had meant that he’d won the monopoly of the friends that you’d made being in his circle, and one of them that you had joint custody over was Kurt. Caring, funny and incredibly supportive, Kurt was everything in a person that you wish you’d found in a friend years previously. Nights at his were never boring and he was the one person you truly felt you could be around and trust not to bring up him in conversation. 
By the time he’d opened the front door, you could smell a light warming scent drifting from one of the hallway candles which was quickly swallowed up as you approached the kitchen. If you were peckish upon arrival, then as dinner was being plated up half an hour later, you were famished. Your bestie was still due to arrive thanks to being stuck in traffic both on the way home from work and also after leaving the house. Other mutual friends who you were familiar enough with to interact with but not enough to really talk to are here too. 
Bottles of wine and water are on the table along with small baskets of bread and butter which are snatched up by those sitting around you. Several people are still due to arrive, so the amount of empty spaces isn’t bothering you too much, though you do reserve the one next to you for her. 
You’re cutting open a bread roll after smushing the butter into a spreadable consistency when your phone beeps and a i’m 5 mins away x text comes through and not for the first time this evening, you sigh a sigh of relief. 
-
You’re in the middle of the main course and half a glass of wine down as your bestie is telling you the latest drama from her office when voices in the hallway gets your attention and the voice that once made your stomach flip is now the reason for it dropping. Your head snaps to the head of the table at the opposite end to you and your eyes meet Kurt’s as the voice continues to speak with someone else. 
What is he doing here? You mouth a little too aggressively as panic begins to swirl in your stomach. Her fingers touch your arm to try and silently calm you but the more you think about it, the more you feed the dread. 
He isn’t supposed to be, is mouthed aggressively back. At least he’s met your energy. 
“It’s good to see you again,” comes his voice as he finally steps into the room. “Sorry I’m late.” He says as he finally addresses the room. 
The empty space opposite and one seat over now feels as though it’s mocking you. Though it’s not dressed for someone to sit in, you feel as though you should have known this was coming. 
“I’ll get you a plate.” Kurt is on his feet faster than you’d have liked him to be but you understand he cannot treat Rúben with disrespect purely because of you nor would you want him to. He gives your shoulder a squeeze as he passes and it’s only in that moment where you feel just how tense your muscles are.
You can hear your breathing coming out in shaky exhales but rather than looking around the table to see what other dinner guests are thinking. You don’t want to look up at the man who you’d held out your heart to. Sure, you’ve seen Rúben around, but not in such an intimate capacity like this. You’ve never had to sit opposite him and felt as though you’ve had to exchange pleasantries. You could, of course, ask to switch seats but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was getting to you. 
When you lift your cutlery to begin to eat again, you note that your hands are shaking. You’d rather take a drink but now he’s here, you want as much of a clear mind as you can possibly have. He clouds your judgement far more than any alcohol ever could and he’s stayed in your system longer than any drugs ever would. 
Plate to mouth. Mouth to plate. Plate to mouth. You continue until you can’t think anymore.You ignore the sound of a chair being moved and pushed back under, a plateful of food being put down and cutlery clinking together. Talk still flows around the table but it sounds as though you’re listening from under water. Even now with impaired sound, it’s clear it’s become very strained since he came in. 
Questions are aimed in his direction and though you try to close off your hearing, you can still hear his replies. If he’s as worried as you are about this meeting, he’s not showing it. 
“Do you want this?” You ask your friend, gesturing to the glass. 
“Don’t you want it? What’s wrong with it?” 
“No, I don’t want it. I want something else.”
“I’m going for one,” James, who sits on the other side of you, says quietly. “I can get one for you too?” 
“That’d be great.” You give a small nod and try to give a smile, though you realise in this moment it appears pained. 
James was a good man, and someone who you could depend on for a light but long chat. He played the small talk game and he played it well. It wasn’t ever anything much but he gave you good reprieve when you needed it.
It’s not until he’s left the table and in turn, the room, that you remember there’s spare glasses and pitches of water with ice. Not wanting to seem rude, you leave him to get your drink, and busy yourself in pouring a cold glass of water. He returns as you’re taking tentative sips. 
“Mmm,” you hum to him to acknowledge that you’ve seen him as he takes his place back at your side while you finish your sips and place the water back on the table and turn to get the drink that Jamie offers you and give a little sniff.
“You remembered.” Small movements swirl the liquid around, ensuring that it’s fully mixed but before you can place it on the table next to the water, you hear 
“Might have remembered her drink but you’ve given an extra ice cube.” Your hand freezes as you listen. 
“Sorry?” Jamie says. He’s not sorry, it’s more of a chance for Rúben to retract his sentence. 
“She prefers two ice cubes not three. You’ve watered down her drink.” 
The statement seems to hang in the air between the three of you and when you finally look up, Rúben is looking right at you. 
“Thanks Jamie,” your smile is still pained but you give it anyway before taking a quick drink, followed by a deeper one seconds later. “I need some air.” you say quietly to no-one and everyone all at the same time. 
Kurt doesn’t fight to keep you at the table and instead, you notice the apologetic expression on his face as you all but flee the room and don’t stop until you’re pulling open the door that leads to the garden and step out. You gulp in the air as you close your eyes and try to clear your head. 
Everything had been so good up until then. You’d managed to keep your head down and was fully prepared to not only be civil with him but so sickly sweet he’d need an emergency trip to the dentist. 
“Fuck him,” you hiss, letting out some of your frustration under your breath. “Fuck. Him.” You repeat and follow it with a long groan. 
“I deserve that.” He says it so quickly, you barely have time to register that he’s said it at all, never mind the fact that he’s snuck up on you. Your heart pounds against your chest with such force, you can’t believe that he’s unable to hear it himself. 
“You have some nerve coming out here to me.”
“With you.” he corrects. 
You almost scoff at him as you turn to look at him properly for the first time since he arrived. “To me.” you stand your ground. “You decided a long time ago that you’d never step out with me.”
“That’s not fair.”
“What was that back there, Rúben? Seriously. “You watered down her drink.” you impersonate him. “You have no right to correct people on my details when you had no intention of sticking around.”
“So I can’t help?”
“I didn’t need your help. It was a drink. One that he’s made many times before and I’ve never felt the need to correct him before.”
“I just thought if he was making you one, he should make it how you like it.”
“You saw it as an unnecessary dick measuring competition.” You stare him down until he finally looks away. He doesn’t deny it and you knew he wouldn’t. Knew he couldn’t. 
“I didn’t think you’d be here.” Rúben tries a different tactic. 
“That’s the only reason I’m here because I didn’t think you would be.”
“The highs and lows of football.” He clicks his tongue and points to his thigh. “Felt something in my hamstring. Coach didn’t want to risk it.”
“Shouldn’t you be explaining this to your girlfriend and not me?” You hate that it slips out before you can stop it but you register the look on his face anyway. 
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
“Maybe not yet anyway,” you mutter it under your breath and try to push past him but he blocks your way. 
“What does that mean?”
“You weren’t ready for a relationship with me but you’re dating the closest possible thing you could find to what you really wanted but were too scared to go for.” And there it is. Months and months of conversations you’ve had with yourself as you’ve lay in bed and gone over everything that happened between you when you’ve had one too many drinks. All the rational, and irrational thinking had led to this moment. Finally putting out your theories to the one person who would either debunk or confirm them. 
You watch as he swallows hard and looks away, focusing his attention on almost anything but you. “You still can’t admit that you wanted me more than you let on, can you?”
“What difference would it make to hear it after all this time?” There’s almost a sadness in Rúben’s voice as he realises that it’s now or never to finally get to the bottom of it all. 
“Because I know I’m right about us.”
“So it’s about winning then for you,” he doesn’t word it as a question, it feels more of an accusation.
“No. It’s about needing to hear for the first time that what we had was real after months and years of you pretending that it wasn’t.”
“I never pretended.” He tries to justify his actions. “I never said that it didn’t feel real. That it was real.”
“I deserve to know that the only reason why we couldn’t have it all was because you were scared.”
His chest rises and falls as he breathes deeply, the muscle in his cheek twitches as he tries to think about what he needs to say. 
“I need to know why they were good enough but I wasn’t. Why date women who look like they could be me if you didn’t want me?” Your voice cracks and you hate that your eyes well up, hot tears now pearling at your lash line, threatening to spill over. You could kick yourself for allowing your emotions to get the better of you. 
“You were always good enough. Always. You knew that I wasn’t capable of giving you what you needed at the start. But I wanted to. I could see the life we could have had and I got inside my own head that I couldn’t live up to the version of me that you wanted. That you needed and that you deserved.”
“I’d have taken any version of you Rúben.”
“I know. And I didn’t want you to have one that wasn’t worth it at the time.”
“You hurt me.”
Three words that he’d known all this time, that he’d told himself enough times that he thought if he ever heard it from her, he’d be desensitised to it. But right here and now, he’s not. Hearing it slices into him in a way he couldn’t have predicted. 
“I know.”
“I wish that I could get over you.” you say as the tear spills in a hot streak down your cheek and drips from your chin. Another follows and another until you’re forced to wipe them away. 
“And I’m selfish enough to not want you to.”
“You’re doing a great job in trying to get me to move on though. Tell me. Where is she? At home waiting for you? Or did she have prior arrangements so she couldn’t come with you tonight?” 
“She’s probably at home. Her home.” He clarifies. “Turns out the reality of me is different to the fantasy. You’ll know about that better than anyone.”
“The reality was my fantasy. The only time you ever let me down was when you left me.”
“And if I wanted a chance to make it up to you? Would you let me?”
“I don’t know if I can trust myself to let you back in.”
“I deserve that,” he gives as much of a strained smile that you’d given earlier this evening. 
“This has emotionally drained me. I can’t do this tonight. I can’t. ”
“Turning up wasn’t my greatest plan, I’ll admit.”
“No. It wasn’t. But Rúben? I’d give you baby steps to try. Just not tonight.” 
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emwritesfootball · 1 year
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Protective Jealousy | Rúben Dias
Can you do a one-shot of jealous/ protective Rúben Dias? Thanksss
A/N: dedicated to @bluemoonstonesy, the love of my (and John's) life <3
Warnings: alcohol, secret relationship, some light smut
- - -
“You’re staring again,” Stones says as he comes up to Rúben from behind, handing him a beer. 
“Can’t help it,” is Rúben’s reply as he takes a swig, his gaze still focused on you as you laugh at something Haaland says. His eyes narrow when Erling places a hand on your arm, though, and John briefly wonders if he’s going to have to hold Rúben back or stop him from taking on their star striker.
“I know what you mean,” John says, catching the eye of his girlfriend Olivia and giving her a small smile from across the room. 
Everyone is out celebrating the end of another great season and because you’re friends with a few of the WAGs, you’ve been invited to attend. The atmosphere is electric and you love being around it. You’d also come to see Rúben, but that was a secret you were trying to keep to yourself. 
You made eye contact with Rúben on your way to the kitchen to grab another drink, disappearing through the door. You were halfway through pouring the alcohol for your mixed drink when you felt a presence behind you, followed closely by hands wrapping around your waist and someone’s hard body pressed against your back.
“Hey,” Rúben murmured, kissing the side of your neck. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.” You turned around, taking his face in your hands so you could give him a proper kiss. Rúben’s hands moved to grab your ass and deepen the kiss, but you stopped it before it could get too far. “We can’t - not here.” Both of you are breathing heavily after that kiss and you know just how good it could get if you let Rúben have his way, but you know it wouldn’t be a good idea.
“I know. Season’s almost over and then we’ll go public.” That was the agreement the two of you had entered this relationship on, and in that moment, you couldn’t quite figure out why you’d agreed to it. 
You stepped away from Rúben, trying to focus on pouring the rest of your mixed drink with your body still acutely aware of Rúben centimeters away. You let out a whimper as his hands slid up your sides to cup your boobs and he nibbled on your earlobe. “Rúben, please.”
“I should mark you…”
“But then people would ask questions.”
“It doesn’t have to be that visible. I could make it so only Erling could see it when he’s looking down your shirt.”
You scoffed and rolled your eyes, knowing Rúben would most likely mistake the response as approval. “He has not been looking down my shirt.”
“He has, but I know you’re mine so that’s okay.”
“Jealous there, Rúben?” You asked, smirking. 
“Not jealous,” he growled, kissing you hungrily. “Protective.”
“Same thing.”
“Absolutely not, Princesa.”
Your giggle was quickly stifled as Rúben picked you up and placed you on the countertop. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist as you made out with him while everyone else partied in the next room. 
“Okay, we really have to stop,” you whimpered as Rúben started to unbutton your jeans and slide a hand down your pants. “We can continue this at my place later. Leave separately within the hour?”
Rúben grabbed your hand and placed it against his growing erection. “Make that thirty minutes.”
It was the longest thirty minutes of your life, but now that Rúben had pointed out Haaland’s interest in you, it was obvious to you that he was staring down your shirt when you picked up the conversation from earlier. 
“I think I’m going to head out now,” you said, excusing yourself from your conversation with Erling.
“Enjoy the rest of the night with your boyfriend,” Erling replied, looking over you and nodding to Rúben.
“Wait…you know?”
“Everyone knows - we’re just waiting for Rúben to make it official.”
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oh-saints · 7 months
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I found your page a couple of days ago and i love all your stories. I hope you won't be overwhelmed with the amount of Rúben dias requests you're about to receive from me 😂I would like to request something with ruben like oc is heavily pregnant and craving something weird (whatever weird this that comes into your mind lol) and he is laughing and teasing her about it lol, and oc us having non of it. Make it fluffy please 🥺
Thank you so much in advance
cravings
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craving during pregnancy is something we all are aware of, rúben even looks forward to it from the moment you broke down the news you were expecting. but what if you ask for something he doesn’t even know it exists?
rúben dias x you part of dad!rúben collection
wc: 2k
note: something that’s been sitting way too long in the vault because of the research I had to do about this but only now finished bcs I had spurts of inspiration suddenly so surprise, surprise it’s a double update! LOLOL but as usual, I happen to write at dawn so this is not beta-read yet!
“gatinha,”
at your whisper, rúben stirred from his sleep. his eyes immediately spotted the clock on the bedside table. the numbers drawn 3:00 in the big, fat analogue font across the screen.
“uh, what is it?” being the alert husband he was, he turned around to face you in no time. “is there something you need?
you were already seated on the edge of the bed, meaning you had just finished from your early morning toilet trip. ever since you became pregnant, the little trip was a new routine for you—and maybe the majority of other pregnant women in general, and everyone around him who had become fathers before him had warned the footballer to watch where the mother was going.
that, and the last thing he needed was for you to slip somewhere when he wasn’t watching, when he couldn’t be any help for you. rúben and you had been waiting for your very own rainbow baby for years, so when you were granted one, it was within his most important priority list to make sure both you and the child—whose gender was still unknown yet; not even born yet and they already resembled your shy nature—happy and safe.
“are you okay?”
you didn’t hide your fascination towards the man in front of you, hair disheveled and eyes blurry with drowsiness. 5 years of marriage and you still found him endearing, even more so when he was now turning protective and alert all the time, borderline the leader of a pack with the appearance similar to a mother hen.
“i am, don’t you worry,” you said, your hands stroking the side of his face, feeling the little hairs growing to become stubbles in near future. “but i’m starving.”
ah… the infamous early morning craving.
you had never personally asked of anything alike before, contrary to what everybody else had been advising rúben that there would be a time where you would be craving something eventually in a very ridiculous time of a morning. four months in, and you were yet to show any signs of it so rúben naturally thought you were going to be an exception case. but look where they were now.
with a smile so apologetic for having to wake him up like that, rúben melted into the warmth your smile exuded. “of course, meu anjo. should i get my keys?”
rúben might be many things but you didn’t believe one chance that he was a psychic. “do you even know what i want to eat?”
“uh, mcdonalds?”
in any other time, you would’ve laughed at his meek attempt to guess your mind. given t was early in the morning, mcdonalds was supposedly a reasonable choice since it was open 24/7.
but you did not, in under any circumstances, want to touch your feet nearby that chain of foul fast food. besides, you were pregnant. didn’t your husband consider that the unhealthy intake of food would do no good for their baby?
rúben must’ve noticed the change in your demeanour. “did i say something wrong, my love?”
“yes, don’t assume anything you don’t know of.”
ah… this one rúben was familiar, the rapid change of your mood he had his money run for the fastest rollercoaster on earth, so he apologised instantly and asked you again what you wanted.
“remember the time when we travelled to asia?”
“you mean, our honeymoon?”
oh, you were so not having your husband being mr. i-know-it-all. “one more of that and i’m walking out.”
the threat was enough to make rúben circle around the bed before kneeling down in front of your frowning figure. not because he was a loser, but because he knew you might actually do it. you had a capability to do it, you always do, which was why he was drawn to you in the first place.
but he didn’t want a runaway wife, pregnant on top of that, so he quickly apologized again. “what about it, baby?”
“i want durian.” *✿❀○❀✿**✿❀○❀✿**✿❀○❀✿*
what on earth is durian?
rúben sighed as he stared at his phone, the screen frozen helplessly for how many tabs he’d opened up in the browser. he rubbed his face rather roughly, due to the frustration, as he sat on the cover of the toilet and pondered his life choices and its respective life expectancies.
no one—literally no one—had warned him about the effect of any slip of tongue around a pregnant woman.
you were the calmest person he’d ever met, never wanting to bite off someone else’s head because it drained your precious energy. which rúben agreed to, and had been a devoted student of yours in terms of anger management on and off the field. but it was getting very hard to keep his own composure intact when you even lost yours.
ironically, rúben realised that one of you should still stay sane for the sake of everyone in this household, now inclusive of the unborn baby and it didn’t look like it was going to be you anytime soon.
so realistically, he couldn’t say to you that he didn’t remember a thing—not even an ounce of it—that you both had seen the fruit in question during your honeymoon. according to you, though, you both were even mesmerized by the look but decided that the possibility of dying because of the foul smell was larger than the delicious taste. as a result, when was the best time to try the exotic fruit than now, at 3.30 AM, when you were nearing the fifth month of pregnancy?
thus, his final resort to the internet, hoping for a miracle in the amount close to how much he needed to create the apple of his eyes with you.
but of course, the search engine didn’t show anything that could help him save his own lifeline this early morning from a pregnant wife that was so ready to stab the knife to his chest. the best option rúben got was to visit chinatown and head to the fruit market.
with a particular note from a lovely reviewer that the fruit was subject to a particular season—durian season, as the asians called it. if you were to seek for the spiky fruit beyond the particular calendar, then you either (i) got one that tasted as foul as it smells, or (ii) came home empty handed.
but of course, you wouldn’t get it, would you? rúben had already had it in his head you were going to wail at how incredulous his justifications are—what the hell is a durian season? we have spring, summer, autumn and winter and not durian! he could imagine—and would accuse him of trying to get his way out of the hard labour of satisfying you craving. worse, you’d scream out rúben should be responsible for this because he was the one who knocked you up and not vice versa.
other times, the footballer would just laugh it off. even at first, he did so and thought you were the cutest thing in his life, an actual living plushie. now, he just didn’t know what to do…
“what takes you so long?”
rúben jumped slightly at the question thrown at him from behind the door, the only thing separating him and his thoughts with the rest of the world and their expectation towards him. “nothing, meu anjo. i’ll be out in a minute.”
“good, because we gotta go. i’m sleepy already but the baby needs to eat.”
the husband closed his eyes once more, regulated his breathing, visualizing the flow of his breath before letting them out slowly—just the way you taught him how—before coming out of the loo. “baby, can i ask you one thing?”
you looked up, and rúben felt bad because you were already dressed and ready to go out and fight the coldness of an early morning. “what is it?”
“what if we go and have the durian in the morning?”
“rúben, it’s already morning now,” you clicked your tongue impatiently. “what are you saying?”
“i have a place to go already but they’re only open later at 8.”
and pregnant silence fell upon them, no puns intended.
“why at 8?”
“because that’s when the market opens,” rúben sat again in front of you, his hands were rubbing the back of your hand and on top of your knees respectfully. “i’m afraid we’ll have to go to chinatown to get them and it’s only open then.”
rúben was so ready with your fit, so he was rather surprised to hear you answer, “okay.”
okay?
okay?!
okay!
good god, the mood swing had returned it honestly felt like rúben had just jumped off the cliff with bungee jumping.
*✿❀○❀✿**✿❀○❀✿**✿❀○❀✿*
rúben was the one not okay that morning.
you turned out to opt out sleeping that night, despite being cuddled by your husband—which was your favourite way to go to sleep, even faring better than being lullabied—but rúben forgot you were living your life for two people for these nine months, so you still had a bar of energy and excitement while he had to drag his feet to the en suite bathroom.
you were literally counting in seconds as to when you’d get to the chinatown. your legs were involuntarily shaking from excitement, while he’d become more sensitive due to the lack of sleep (per his standard). as soon as the car stopped at the parking lot, you ran to the nearest entrance and lost yourself in quest to find the fruit. it wasn’t even 8 AM yet.
rúben had to call and asked you to share your live location, in case you were lost. but you were already moving in a pace so different than those mothers he’d gotten to know lately due to the parenting class, there was no way he could catch up.
“where are you?” as soon as his phone rang, he picked up, panting from the endless count of steps inside a huge market. “i cannot find you.”
coincidentally, you happened to call rúben in order to tell him that you were going to line in a queue to a small shop selling imported exotic fruits. the small hadn’t been open, yet there was already a waiting list, and in your dictionary of words it should only mean that the said shop was relevant to be called the local’s favourite.
“there you are,” rúben was about to comment
like a lucky charm, they were called in to make their purchase not long after.
you had your eyes already set on durian, so when the uncle asked if you wanted to eat at that place or bring home a peeled one, you didn’t hesitate to have them immediately. besides, you didn’t know how to split durian into two and whatnot.
“oh my god, so damn good!” you didn’t waste a minute to dance your little moves that you made to indicate you’re happy at that moment. “i can eat this every day for the rest of my life!”
good god, please help me.
“you should try, baby!” you were so excited to share your happiness with your husband, one hand holding a tiny bit of yellow and ready to be shoved into rúben’s mouth. who could deny such endearing request? “you’ve never had one before!”
and that was also the last time rúben had a bite of that yellow, mushy inside of durian. apart from the smell, he decided he didn’t like the texture and the bitter aftertaste.
but that was him. you, on the other hand, were munching the fruit as if it was going to be your last time seeing that scarce fruit. it appalled rúben too even at the length and amount you could eat in one seating. and looking at that, seeing you were this elated, it also made him full—in every sense of the word, literally and figuratively.
when you were done with the last chunk, you grinned at him, rather sheepishly. maybe you were drunk from the fruit, maybe you were shy because you just let out one hell of an appetite. “thank you for coming here with me.”
“anytime, my love, but we’re not doing this again. okay, meu anjo?” rúben wiped your fingers one by one from the sticky texture, internally wincing at the stinky smell. “promise me that.”
“sim, meu amor.”
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gadriezmannsgirl · 2 months
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Rúben Dias Masterlist
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Fluff = 💖 Angst= 🥺 Suggestive content= 🔥
Series
coming soon!
One Shots
No Matter What
Needy, Cute and Manly Boyfriend
O Meu Pai
Blurbs
Coming soon!
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julianalvarez9 · 1 year
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what a man
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joaofelix70 · 10 months
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INFORMATIONS! ☆
i don't make full angst stories, but some elements involving the category can be included. request me a smut (politely asking for no extreme bdsm kinks), fluff content too, which i'm passionate about. (anonymously or not). i apologize if your unproblematic ask wasn't reciprocated in the name of my busy activities. please, try to send me again or give me more details of your wishes, using the private inbox. feel honored to talk to the readers. love it infinitely!
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── joão félix sequeira.
a crescent love, an ephemeral passion ── joão félix
summary: you and joão spent all the summer together. you even met his friends and brother. could this be the beginning of a crescent love or just an ephemeral passion? his friendship with his ex would ruin everything between the two of you?
69 with joão félix
summary: a concept of you and joão félix sharing jubilation and becoming one.
── dominik szoboszlai.
miss diplomat and mr. charming ── dominik szoboszlai
summary: your job is involving the commitment of unify the population and create interrelations to another countries, using the eurocup qualifiers and the hungary national team executions. you just didn't expect to fall in love with the no. 10's captain player.
── kostantinos "kostas" tsimikas.
none yet.
── rúben dos santos gato alves dias.
none yet.
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rubesmch · 6 months
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ruben dias size
i was wondering guys have you ever saw ruben’s boner? Like i could never find a video or a pic of it, i mean i f anyone has it don’t hesitate to share🤭
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rubendiasworld · 1 year
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Does like no one write for Ederson Moraes?? Like he’s so underrated… might be my weakness for tattoos but like if there is any reading material please let me know!!
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blueathens · 2 years
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ACT ONE - Serendipity
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OC x Rúben Dias AU - Scooby Doo Universe Dylan Phoenix x Rúben Dias
Also Features: Mason Mount x Dylan Phoenix (platonic), Dani Stewart (played by Fivel Stewart), Scooby Doo (played by a Great Dane)
Writing Rule||Character List||Navigation||Masterlist    
Series Masterlist
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synopsis ⇢ In which a group of friends become very known mystery solvers at the age of 20, however the group started crime solving at the age of 16, but all took a step back due to a relationship falling apart within their group and the stress of school. Now they are out of school, and have already solved quite a few crimes to make a name for themselves. 
In this alternative universe, the group fight and reveal the truth about the monsters under the masks. The group consists of a two girls who were the first to befriend one another in primary school, then one of this girls dated the so called ‘leader’ of the group, before they fell apart and decided it be best to be friends - and then there was her cousin and his talking dog - together, though, they were Mystery Incorporated. 
Most didn’t take them seriously, still saw them as kids, and kids who were not skilled in the crime world, some took them seriously and would call them whenever they had suspicions.
Now we follow them as the venture through another mystery - The Black Knight.
(summary is subject to change).
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main genres ⇢ found family, friends to lovers, exes to lovers, alternative universe,
↳ fluff, angst, and smut are all included into this series
warning ⇢ explicit content, graphic violence, gore, violence, mature themes, strong language, death, mental health and injuries, alcohol/drugs/smoking
↳ please refrain if you are sensitive to any of these themes. Please also keep in mind that not all warnings may be listed above - all warnings fit into the series though.
note ⇢ updates will be once a week, the day of the week has not yet been decided or what time it will come out on those days. Those will be sorted once planning is completed. I’m hoping this along with a few other things will help me get out my many months worth of writer’s block :)
↳ to be informed when there’s an update, you can either turn @blueathens​ notifications on, or ask to be in this series’ taglist.
status ⇢ planning
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act one blurb ⇢ ‘If someone took one good look at Rúben right now they would think he was a fool. Which he was. He's a fool for Dylan. And if they noticed the smile painted across his lips they would think they were in the Louvre looking at a painting. A painting of the two fools. And if they watched the way Rúben was looking at Dylan then they probably would think they walked into a book. Cause the look that was on his face could only be found in story books, but here Rúben was, looking at Dylan as if she made the entire universe. And if they heard the way Rúben spoke her name they would think they were in a dream. Cause how can someone say such a simple name and make it sound golden?’
o. Mystery Incorporated - arriving soon -
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footballffbarbiex · 1 year
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Too Much
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Player: Rúben Dias Words: 751 Request: 700+  |  you / your   |  Fluff please! Cuddles after a rough day
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-
Rúben wasn’t home when you arrived, but it gave you time to try and shake the heaviness of the day from you. Peeling the clothes from your body was something, but stepping under the water seemed to just wash away most of the tension, allowing you to stand under the hot steam and stream until your skin felt numb and had started to prickle. You couldn’t say what it was about the day, but it all felt like a weight resting upon your shoulders which only increased the longer you remained on shift and a pounding at your skull in such a way that made you want to cry. The only thing that stopped you was knowing how such crying would bring on a headache afterwards and you didn’t need or want another ache adding.
The soft fluffy towel that covered your body seemed to act as a barrier between you and the world as you sit on the chair, the chair that seemed to be in everyone’s room which usually became the middle ground between the wardrobe and the laundry basket. You couldn’t pinpoint what had made today so awful but it left you vulnerable and drained. As much as you’d have preferred to have Rúben home when you returned, you’re relieved to have these moments alone. Rúben would have worried, he always does and with Arsenal still points ahead, you wanted him concentrating on their games and not worrying about you.
By the time you’ve pulled on fresh, soft PJs and made your way downstairs, Rúben is opening the front door and stepping inside. The cold spring air seems to swirl over the floor, biting at your ankles and slithering up your body until you can’t fight the shiver any longer, sending your body into short lived convulsions.
“I’m sorry I missed the game,” you tell him, even though it’s a sentence you’ve said numerously in present tense since you received your work rota and were unable to swap.
“Hey, it’s ok. There’s always other games. It’s not as though you missed much,” he shrugs nonchalantly, despite Haaland scoring yet another hattrick and making a mockery of the opposition.
“Clearly not,” the smile you force onto your face is far too transparent and Rúben sees straight through you.
“Hey, what are you not telling me?” He asks, abandoning the shedding of his outer clothes and steps towards you instead. Hot tears well up in your eyes the moment his hands are on you and you’re pulled into a hug by him. They cloud your vision and any attempt at blinking, while sending the existing ones down your cheeks, only brings on more. He doesn’t probe, he simply stands there, wrapped around you and waits for you to open up. Moments or minutes, you’re not sure, pass by before you shrug out from underneath him and step away.
Your thumbs swipe beneath your eyes and the heel of your hands drag down your cheek to dry yourself off as much as possible as you try to compose yourself. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, struggling with those two words alone as the lump in your throat takes over, making it hard to swallow let alone speak. You give him a smile that you hope appears sympathetic or apologetic or one of the etic words of a similar theme, and with the expression that changes his features into one of concern.
“Don’t say anything yet.” He's careful, hand so close to your body that you can feel the warmth from it but he doesn’t touch you again. He’s done this enough to know the simplest of gestures from him can bring on a crying session that neither of you are ever prepared for. You appreciate the distance. “Come get on the sofa. I can make you a drink and if you just want to cuddle, we’ll cuddle. If you want to talk, we’ll talk.”
“You really don’t mind?” The words feel choked out and unlike earlier where the weight of the day rested upon you, now it feels like shame is doing the same.
“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you stay upset?”
“A normal one?”
“True, but I try to do better. That’s why exes become exes.” he states and gives you a closed lip smile. “Couch. Now.” he says as begins to walk away, “and if you’re not there when I get in that room, I will put you over my shoulder and take your ass there.”
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dontexpectmuch · 3 months
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rúben dias x reader
summary; you always see him when you step out of your apartment in the early hours of the morning, the two of you greeting each other with your eyes before you move on with your day. there has never been a reason to talk to him; until you run out of sugar and are about to have a mental breakdown. the girly way.
part one! [part two]
**
sometimes you hated yourself for being so passionate about your work field. there was nothing wrong with being passionate about what you do with your life per se, however having to get up at 4:30 in the morning made something inside you die each day.
who in their right mind would ever do that to themselves?
your family and friends around you always [affectionately] called you a psychopath because of it, and sometimes you agree with them. starting your day so early til the late evening would take a toll on you at times, you couldn’t lie. though, what else are you supposed to do with your life?
living in manchester, close to university labs and other great laboratories was a privilege for someone in your field. your work required loads of attention and detailed research, taking up most of your time. it’s not like you had someone at home waiting for you anyway. forcing yourself out of your bed and getting ready was the norm, you quickly became used to your routine and did everything according to a certain standard. looking at yourself in the mirror as you brush your teeth, you are met with a pair of tired eyes.
just as you are about to spit out the rest of the toothpaste, you hear the alarm of the flat next to you go off, meaning it was 5:00 already.
your neighbor was also out of their mind, apparently.
he always gets up early in the morning, does his routine and leaves his home at the same time as you do. he however, compared to you, looked always fresh and dedicated, no trace of sleepiness on his masculine features.
finishing your morning routine, you quickly get dressed, take your ginger shots and eat some food before putting on your shoes. with one last look behind you to check yourself in the mirror, you open the door.
not even a second later, the door opposite to you also opened, your tall neighbor stepping out of his flat, bag on his shoulder and hair styled.
how did he manage to always wear such nice outfits? you find yourself asking as you greet him with a tired smile.
you close your door behind you and move your tired legs to the elevator, pressing the button as you readjust your bag on your shoulders. today would be a tiring day, you can just tell.
your neighbor stands a meter behind you, his intense perfume invading your senses. even though the two of you get up quite early, he seemed very energetic, almost as if he could run around a field all day long with no feeling of being tired.
the sound of the elevator arriving pulls you out of your thoughts, stepping inside as your eyes follow your neighbors hands. he always presses the button, never once letting you have the chance to do so yourself. not that you are complaining.
as soon as you arrive at the entrance, he quickly walks out the elevator, a small and breathy ‘bye’ leaving his lips as his long legs carry him to the garage.
“bye.” you say to no one particular, moving forward to get to the train station.
it definitely is too early.
——
“that’s a lot of sugar.” you mumble to yourself as you read the instructions on the paper.
the light in your kitchen is dimmed down, soft rnb music playing in the background and candles lit around your flat just created a certain vibe that you desperately need right now.
work has been harder than usual today, testing you and your mental capacity in very unique and challenging ways. thankfully, you have been able to come home a bit earlier, granting you enough time to bake yourself some delicious cookies as a treat. what you forgot, however, was that you still need to go grocery shopping, your fridge a clear evidence for that.
you search your cupboards for some sugar, eyes scanning each product with practiced ease. your shoulders sink in despair when you fail to detect it, your head pounding and feet getting cold.
“fuckin’…” you take a deep breath and try to calm yourself, but the pounding of your head and your rapid pulse hinder you from actually calming down.
looking at the clock above the door, you see that it is way too late to go out and buy some sugar, knowing that it would get too late to come home, bake the cookies, get enough sleep and what not. you try to think of what else you could do, when suddenly you hear some noise from your neighbors flat. it wasn’t loud, yet it came so unexpected that it pulled you out of your racing mind, making you calm down a bit better now.
so you do what anyone else would do, you decide to ask you neighbor for some sugar, not a big deal.
yeah, no biggie, at all.
now, standing in front of his door as you try to internally hype yourself up, you wish that you just went grocery shopping yesterday. because then, you wouldn’t have to stand here with your measuring cup in your hand, looking at the black door.
‘dias’ it says on the bell’s button.
taking one last deep breath, you move your cold hand towards the door, gently knocking against it. no going back now.
it didn’t take longer than ten seconds for the door to open, and you are immediately met with the sight if your neighbor in his evening clothes, messy hair and phone at hand.
his eyes are wide as he looks at you, somewhat surprised to see you standing there. you, too, are surprised by all of this, however you were here on a mission. no time for distractions.
you clean your throat, “hey, sorry for bothering you-“
“you don’t.” he immediately responds, voice deep laced with an accent.
you smile at him, which he returns. he steps closer to you, now resting his upper body against the doorframe.
“i was baking some cookies and didn’t realize that i ran out of sugar. could you perhaps lend me some?”
holding the measuring cup up to show him, dias immediately nods and gently takes the cup out of your hands, “give me a second.” is all he says before he disappears into his flat, front door still open for you to take a peak inside.
even though you can’t see a lot, even his doorway looked quite nice and clean, shoe rack full of different types of shoes. he even had a plant there, something that even you don’t own.
“here you go.” he appears again, smiling softly at you as he holds the cup for you to take.
returning his smile, you thank him, “thanks, eh..”
“rúben.”
“thanks, rúben! i’ll bring some cookies over as soon as they’re finished.” you tell him, smiling one last time before going back to your flat.
“see you.” is all you hear before he closes his door, and you immediately go back to your kitchen to finish what you started.
time passes by and an hour later you finish the cookies. your body finally relaxes, no trace of that stress you felt today at work present. the kitchen smells heavenly and your mouth waters as you take your first bite of the cookie.
looking at the time, you see that it is barley past nine, not too late to give rúben some of the cookies as a thank you. so, you put some of them in to a plate and once again leave your home to knock on his door.
you didn’t understand why, but suddenly your mind goes blank and your heart beats faster again, cold sweat spreading across your back. was it because you cared about what he thought of your baking? maybe you were getting sick due to all the stress you had throughout the day, and this was your final sign to take a break from work.
your worries wash away when rúben once again opens his door, looking the same as from an hour ago.
this time, his smile reaches his eyes when he sees you standing there, holding a plate with delicious looking cookies on it.
“delivery.” you say, smiling at him.
he didn’t look as mean and intimidating as he usually does in the morning. this whole ‘homebody’ look casts a whole new light on him, changing the previous thoughts you had about him.
rúben chuckles at your word, “well, well, would you look at that.”
his thick accent sends a shiver down your spine, his deep and honey like voice a nice change from what you were usually accustomed to when hearing a male voice.
“i hope you like them, rúben.” you hand him the plate, looking at his eyes, “thanks again for the sugar, really saved my evening.”
rúben laughs as he takes the plate, waving his hand at your statement, “it was nothing, really. thank you for the cookies, i look forward to eat them.”
nodding at his words, you look down as you smile to yourself, “well, have a-“
“do you want to eat them together?” he interrupted you, big brown eyes looking at you intensely.
oh, well.
“i don’t want to disturb your evening, though.” you tell him your thoughts.
or maybe it is because you don’t trust yourself to have the mental capacity right now. well, you tend to enjoy your alone time a lot, and spending your evening with your neighbor who practically is a stranger wasn’t exactly on your radar.
“no, really,” rúben begins, opening his door wide to welcome you in. as you step in, he continues, “as neighbors, we have to get to know each other. we both live alone, when something happens we are the closest to each other to help.” he reasons. and he was right, you think to yourself.
your parents live outside of manchester, your friends on the other side of town. if something were ever to happen, having rúben close would be the most important thing for you.
nodding, you take off your shoes and follow him to the big living room, “you’re right. i never thought about what might happen if no one could come in time.”
rúben brightly smiles at you as he places the plate onto his coffee table in front of the couch. as your eyes wander around the living room, you once again notice how clean and organized his home looks. not a single thing out of place, compared to this, your home looks like a battlefield. his flat was definitely bigger than yours as well, though his kitchen and living room were connected, whereas you had a separate room for your kitchen. his walls were decorated with some pictures, and you could even see a guitar leaning against the wall in a corner.
"here, ginger tea does wonders to one's body." rúben leans down to place a cup of tea in front of you, his perfume hitting your nose.
"thanks." you smike at him as you watch him take a seat on the couch next to you, respectable distance between you two.
he takes a sip from his tea before looking at you, his eyes shining under the dim lights, “how long have you been living here?”
“hm,” you begin as you try to think of a concrete date, not so sure yourself, “well, i moved here after i got my job at the university, even though it wasn’t the cheapest, it was still the closest to work and best offer i got considering how big the flat is.” you explain, grabbing a cookie as you shoot the same question back at him.
“i also work in manchester,” rúben begins, his voice deep. he leans back against the couch, his left arm now resting on top of the back, “but this is my second flat. my first one was too unsafe, considering that everyone could just enter the building.”
you nod, “yes, that was also quite important to me when i moved here.”
he smiled as he told you a bit more about his first flat and how different it was living in his old neighborhood compared to now. without noticing, you two fell into a comfortable conversation, jumping from topic to topic as the two of you had loads to tell. rúben talked a lot more than you, but that was only because you enjoyed listening to his stories, his accent also made it a lot more enjoyable.
time moved on quickly, and when your eyes catch a glimpse of the digital clock on his wall, they widen in disbelief.
“oh, fuck, i have to go.” you tell him, getting up take your cup and the empty plate to the kitchen.
rúben follows you, placing his own cup into the sink as you now move on to out on your shoes.
“thank you so much, rúben.” you say as he opens the door for you, watching you step out as he now leans against his doorframe, arms crossed in front of his chest, “it was genuinely nice to get to know you.”
he smiles at you words, “thank you, too. the cookies were amazing. i’ll bring the plate back as soon as it’s clean.” he lets you know.
you walk backwards to your door, pulling out your keys, “no rush, it’s not like you have a long way to deliver it anyway.”
“you’re right.”
“soo, i’ll see you in a few?” you ask him, opening your door and stepping inside.
he nods, “in a few.”
“okay, good night, rúben.”
“good night.”
—————————————————
tadaaaaa
just a drabble but i think we can work with this quite well. whatcha think? let me know!!!
bb
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oh-saints · 9 months
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Hi I don’t know if you’ll get this but I have an idea for Rúben Dias, he starrs crushing on the female photographer for Man City and his teammates start teasing him, he doesn’t want to admit his feelings because he thinks the photographer is dating someone ( but she’s actually single and is just introverted)
aaaaahh this feels close to home bcs i'd gotten mistaken so many times by men due to my introvert nature /sigh
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silent
rúben should really stop interpreting things out of hand on his own and start asking the right questions instead.
rúben dias x photographer!you
wc: 2.7k
note: here's is my comback piece! (is that even a valid word?) i actually had this idea in mind for a while and i love writing this bcs i can see he could make this kind of cute mistake! this actually hits closer to home, too, considering that i'm an intovert as well LOL but as usual, I happen to write at dawn so this is not beta-read yet.
happy new year too, everyone! i wish you'll have a blessed year ahead <3
“cupcakes!”
you groaned inwardly, that must be jack grealish. only the 100-million man would call you with overly sweet pet names like that, and he did it so often no matter how many times you corrected him that you had a real name during the first month of your employment here. now entering your third month, you’ve long given up, but you’d renamed his contact to be jack greasy on your phone.
“come sit over with us!”
unlike your nickname, though, you hadn’t given up on his persistent request to sit amongst his set of friends because good lord could they be so boisterous their laughter sounded more like a boom in your ears sometimes. their energy simply went off the roof and your introvert self could never handle it well.
you’d have your time to photograph everyone in the bus later anyway, so you gave him a polite smile, without another word, and proceeded to sit down beside your fellow media team.
you could hear jack screaming protest “aw, come on, cupcakes!” as you took your seat. his friends were laughing on his face at your rejection.
if you have your way, though, you’d badly want to be assigned to the calmer tide of the bus. the likes of julian, kevin, bernardo were more suitable for your kind. but being the one responsible for the disposable camera and all of city’s short off-pitch videos, jack and his circus were more than a matchmade in heaven for a better result.
before you had more complaints to mull over, your colleagues turned to face you and started babbling about an upcoming short video the both of you would have to make. the plot, the script, down to deciding who’d be best to be asked for to star in the video.
“i think rúben dias would do just fine.”
being a newbie, you nodded along the names he mentioned because in all honesty, you didn’t exactly know who is who and which is which until now. two months splattered all over the men’s and the women’s team, as well as the academy, was pretty much a guarantee you’d missed out on someone.
but you always, no matter how busy you are, spared some time to browse on the player before you met them, in case it was someone you should be worried for, or someone you should be thankful of for their media-darling persona, or someone you should be working twice as hard because they didn’t know what to do. worse, someone you’d worked together before but you forgot.
for rúben dias, though… you didn’t know which one of the categories above fitted him best. you were rendered speechless at your search bar result. you could bet your entire month salary that he was someone you had yet the chance to create a content together because if he already did, you wouldn’t have that face of his wiped off your brain.
which was exactly why you should be worried.
you had never worked with someone that looks like adonis when he decides to ascend himself from olympus. or so you’d like to think rúben was what adonis would’ve looked like if greek mythology happens to be true.
sadly, nobody warned you that he was even more beautiful up close, as he strutted his way to your creator team, with a tousled hair he kept tussling against, as well as the bright smile and warm laugh he’d drop here as he went through pre-production brief. his voice was so melodic it soothed all the soreness to your eardrums—thanks to jack grealish—in one simple video production, and you mentally thought you could replay the edited video later whenever you needed to go to sleep, like an asmr or some sort, because it really felt like a blanket on a rainy day.
your heart ached at the sight because my goodness… he was simply too beautiful for your own good.
it shouldn’t be doing all that jumping and leaping and drumming, though, because those were the early signs of you getting biased.
and it could only mean one thing in every professional language possible: bad.
with your very generous pay check on the line, you couldn’t afford to fail. so that day, you made a promise to yourself to do what you had to do, and thankfully it was what your introvert self do best.
*✿❀○❀✿**✿❀○❀✿**✿❀○❀✿*
while you knew what to do, rúben—on the contrary—seemed lost.
no, the portugese was lost.
contrary to popular belief, footballers are actually smart. at least, if they are not book smart, they’re definitely street smart. rúben would like to think he’s got a bit of both worlds, so it could justify his own judgement of you.
his eyes were keen, as his job required him to do so, and he’s got an incredible sensing, enough to read a gigantic elephant in the room when there was one. the combination scanned your change in attitude on the day he first worked with you and the present time.
you were so friendly and eager to work with him, welcoming his extended hand as he introduced himself to you for the first time. he remembered your smile, blinding against the bleak manchester weather but instead of feeling cold, he only felt warmth and fuzzy all over his body.
but as the filming session went on, your smile was close to non-existent, just like the probability of the two of you running into each other again. he initially thought it was only because you got so many takes already and the job exhausted you, but he later realised you were avoiding him. as subtle as you could anyway.
at the beginning, he only thought you missed the way he waved at you. or the time when he thought you put his row of seat last for a mandatory picture in your disposable camera, for aesthetics’ sake.
the time when he offered you a ride home, though—that was the final confirmation. the weather had started snowing on some days, and you were certainly freezing by the look of your shivering shoulders and teetering teeth, so rúben offered you a ride home. but you turned down the offer, ever so politely like usual. yes, yes of course you had the rights but the most logical thing was to accept them instead of waiting for the next bus, no?
(oh, believe him, he knew she was waiting. he managed to parked far away from your sight but close enough to see that you did indeed wait for the next bus to arrive and take you to the nearest station. he knew, and he remembered that day because it was the only day he had to fight himself from running down the street just to give you another layer of coat.)
his first instinct was to think that he’d wronged you somehow during the filming. was he demanding? was he not up to your par of filming standard? was he not good enough for your cameras?
but james, your fellow co-worker, the one who worked together with you for this project, gave him an utterly confused look. “have you seen how the videos turned out? you were brilliant, rúben. and no, i don’t think i’ve heard any concerns from her about your ethics.”
so what did he still not do right that could’ve upset you?
rúben didn’t like where this was going because you’ve kept him intrigued. you kept him on his toes, bouncing lightly like a child full of curiosity. you kept him thirsty for more information about you and what makes you tick, lowkey in hope to bring out the smile rúben himself didn’t know he had missed seeing.
and if he discovered that he did indeed upset you somehow, and was somehow responsible for the disappearance of your shy smile, then he’d like to right them right away. he has to.
with that mentality, rúben took the chance to clock out earlier—which was like the seventh wonder of the world around etihad academy—in order to catch a glimpse of you on your off-work routine. he’d set himself resolved to only ask necessary questions, not more nor less, without any hidden agenda. no wishy washy, unlike his previous trials.
rúben did actually catch you for a split second. his beak was already opening, he’d only needed his voice box to produce the sound to the question in his mind, but the scene unravelled before him halted everything in him. every particle of his body, every molecule of his brain.
a black car swerved into the lane to the lobby, a pretty prestigious car at that, and the way your face lit up so brightly reminded him of the day you first worked together. it was a sight that rúben missed, it was a sight that rúben longed to see again.
he was so blinded by the ethereal view that he completely forgot his own plan, and watched as the black car swallowed his portion of small happiness of the day.
was that your boyfriend? if yes, then did you take rúben’s friendliness as a romantical advance to you? if yes, then was that the reason why you immediately put up a china wall between you two? if yes, then was he that protective or was he simply possessive?
rúben couldn’t deny his own infatuation of you. maybe it was why he was adamant to right things good between the two of you. but if you did in fact have a boyfriend, then he should find a way to reduce and silence this growing feeling—be it really infatuation or merely curiosity.
“does she have a boyfriend?”
but desperate times need desperate measures, and rúben saw ‘the black car incident’ was his sign to speed things up in order to find a concrete answer. even if it included asking jack grealish about you.
jack snorted, rather snobby. “how would i know, mate?”
“i thought you guys are close.”
“your definition of close is concerning,” jack replied as he shut his locker. “why don’t you ask her yourself? aren’t you the type to just charge at it first, think later?”
“i would’ve if she didn’t give me a cold shoulder.”
“have you tried?”
rúben was the one who didn’t hold back his snort this time. “of course i did.”
“then maybe you were asking the wrong question, mate.”
*✿❀○❀✿**✿❀○❀✿**✿❀○❀✿*
as much as rúben hated to confess that jack actually had a point, he had to give hands down. he might be asking the wrong question, he might be asking too much question, he might be asking the right question with the wrong approach.
bottom line, he’d concluded himself that he had to try until he succeeded. each time in different approach, different variables. logically speaking, it should take him somewhere for a clue. if it didn’t, it should at least tire you enough to have you spell the answer to his queries.
rúben had gathered enough information that you and your team had wrapped up filming for christmas and new year’s content, complete with kids involved and all. you were supposed to stay in the editing room, and working late on it because there was a teaser—which fell into your line of work under “short videos”—to be uploaded tomorrow evening.
he purposefully slowed his pace for anything that did not require physical activities and trainings, resulting in him also staying late to finish some of his homework—his affectionate nickname for video trainings he’d like to execute at home, in the comfort of his abode and plush suede pillows—so he could match your pace of work. he planned to catch you off guard the same way as ‘the black car’ incident.
at 8, you finally went out of your cave, precisely like his little rat had informed him before. so of course, you were startled to find rúben already standing against the railing in front of your office.
“rúben,” your voice got stuck in your throat but rúben thought it was a cute squeak. it was also a better response, rúben thought, too. you could’ve spat at him or shooed him away immediately. “what are you doing here?”
“i’m—” rúben thought about lying for a second, but he decided it’d contribute nothing to a start of a friendship. yes, friendship, because it was the bare minimum, no? “i’m waiting for you.”
your eyes widened, and that was when rúben noticed the golden specks on the orbs of your eyes. heartbreakingly stunning, solely because rúben only noticed this now.
you shifted the weight of your body from your right leg to your left one, and rúben found it endearing because he noticed that was an early sign an introvert—you, in this case—was starting to get nervous or uncomfortable. rúben hoped it was the former because that’d put you as cute as an awkward lone penguin.
“is there anything i can help you with?”
“yes, i’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
with his devastatingly beautiful look, his velvet voice and his intensely deep brown eyes, your heart palpitated so fast and so irregular that you were afraid rúben could see them falling and getting back into its designated place like a bungee jumper.
or maybe the rope snapped on its way down and never found its way up again, depending on the question about to be fired at you. at this point, your mind went funnily white, and you were ready to succumb into either pressure or temptation, depending on the question he’d fire you with.
“do you hate me?”
you seemed perplexed at his blatant question, but he’d take that reaction over anything else because it was something, especially compared to the invisible wall you’d put up since the first time you both had worked together.
“do you?” rúben pressed his voice gently, while he took a step closer to you. slowly but assertively.
the movement snapped you back to reality. you should not heed into pressure, but there was no use in lying because in reality, you really had no reason to hate him. if you had your chance, you would’ve done things the other way around.
“no, i don’t.”
another step closer. “but have you ever hated me?”
realising the 6-feet centre back was doing, you involuntarily moved backwards in the same amount of steps that he did, albeit the distance reached was certainly and significantly a huge gap you could never keep. “no, rúben—”
before you could finish your sentence, he obliterated every single space left in between the two of you and cornered you to the nearest wall. “then do you like me?”
you should be running, you should be fleeing, you should be screaming down the hill. you should be anywhere but here, trapped in between the long, strong and sturdy pair of his arms, the very same one he used to defend himself and the ball from the opponent. the very same one your eyes couldn’t lie but appreciate its masculinity.
rúben noticed the miniscule movement of your eyes, despite your tightened body language, and it brought a little smile on the corner of his lips. maybe he had indeed asked all the wrong question in all the previous times he’d had the chance.
“tell me,” rúben then pronounced your name in the way no one else could, so soft and velvet like a fine cashmere being caressed against your eardrums, that shivers ran down your entire body as if you were struck by a lightning. “please tell me that, at least.”
so paradoxic, you thought inwardly at the sensation. and you supposedly hated the way he confused you, but you didn’t this time—you didn’t even detest the way he seemed enjoying this whole thing, by the way he pulled of a subtle smirk that busted your knees slowly but surely—and it made you even more crazy because what the hell was this?
you tried to mask it off by looking him straight in the eyes. well, tried to, at least, because the moment your eyes were connected with the milkiest brown orbs that reminded you of a hot chocolate on a wintry day, you couldn’t help but look away. “what do you want me to say?”
rúben didn’t fight a full smile from blooming on his face, as the tip of his finger aligned your face gently to face his. he really likes the fact you gave him a fair fight to remain indifferent still, even when everything else of your body failed to be your auxiliary. “do you like me?”
“i do—”
“then would you like to have a dinner with me tonight?”
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gadriezmannsgirl · 2 months
Note
I would love to see girl!dad Ruben😍😍😍😍
I think we all can agree with Rúben being dad of the cutiest little babygirl♥️🥰
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coolemmasulivan2 · 1 month
Text
Clumsy Woman
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Pairing: Rúben Dias x Reader
Summary: Your boyfriend doesn't like how clumsy you are, afraid you might seriously injure yourself.
Word count: 1976
Can't pretend to understand I'll be here to hold your hand I will wait for you, I will wait for you
You had been clumsy from a young age. Falling from trees, falling off bicycles, or simply tripping over your own feet seemed to be your speciality. It was during one of these graceful performances that you met your boyfriend, Ruben. You were barreling toward a magnificent face-plant when his strong arms caught you, saving you from certain embarrassment.
"I want to paint that wall!" You announced over breakfast one morning, your eyes sparkling with determination. "A deep blue, maybe."
Ruben raised an eyebrow, glancing between you and the wall. "That bookshelf has to go first." He pointed out. "It's heavy. We can do it together this weekend." He kissed your forehead and grabbed his keys. "I have to go!"
"Bye." Your attention was still on the wall and Ruben knew what you were thinking.
"Don't do it!" He called out as he reached for his bag. "Wait for me."
"But it's my day off!" You protested, already picturing the transformed wall. "I can at least start." Ruben gave you a look. "Fine." He gave you one final kiss on the lips and then left for training.
You didn't like to stay still at home. There was always a compulsion to be busy, so when boredom crept in, your eyes fell on the wall, then the bookshelf. Maybe it wasn't that difficult. With a burst of energy, you dashed out the door to buy the paint and everything you needed to paint the wall.
At home, you slip into old clothes and turn up the music. The bookshelf was packed with your books and Ruben's trophies. He'd be furious if he saw you right now, but you would prove you could handle it alone.
The bookshelf, a dark wood monster that dominated the room, had been a custom order. You started by emptying it, a task that required more muscle than expected. Then came the acrobatics. With much effort, you managed to slide a rug under one end. But as you attempted to repeat the same on the other side, disaster hit. Your hands slipped and the bookshelf came crashing down on your bare foot. A scream ripped through you as pain exploded.
"Don't do it!" Ruben's words echoed in your head. He was so going to kill you.
With a grunt of effort, you lifted the bookshelf off your foot. Pain shot through you as you collapsed to the floor, cradling your injured limb. It looked horrific, swollen and red. Trying to stand was a mistake, as a fresh wave of agony crippled you. You couldn't walk.
"Oh God, oh God!" Panic set in. Your phone was fumbled out of your pocket. You needed help, and you needed it now. Ruben wouldn't be home for hours. Calling an ambulance was the only option.
Ruben stepped into the locker room, and he heard the insistent vibration of his phone. "That thing hasn't stopped ringing." Bernardo commented, a grin spreading across his face.
Ruben's brow furrowed as he glanced at the caller ID. It was Lily, your best friend. "Hey, Lily, everything okay?"
"Hi Ruben, sorry to bother you, but I was supposed to meet Y/N at your place, and she’s not there and a neighbour mentioned seeing an ambulance at your building." His blood ran cold. "Do you know what happened?"
"I can't believe her!" His voice rose in frustration. "She wanted to paint the wall, the one with the bookshelf. I told her not to touch it!" A wave of dread washed over him.
"She probably didn't listen. Oh God." Lily knew you better than anyone. Your stubborn independence was legendary. "I've tried calling her, but no answer."
"Let me take a shower really quick and then I'll call you back."
Bernardo and Walker exchanged concerned glances. "What's going on, man? Your girl in trouble again?" Walker asked, his tone laced with disbelief.
"Looks like it!" Ruben replied, his voice rough. "She can't stay out of trouble for five minutes. Fuck." He desperately searched for the contact of his friend Eric who worked at the hospital. He answered on the fourth ring.
"Hey, mate, what's up?"
"Eric, man, sorry to bother you, I know you're working, but I need a huge favour." Ruben rushed out, his voice was laced with urgency.
"Shoot!" Eric replied, his tone professional.
"Can you check if Y/N was admitted to the hospital? I think she might have had an accident. Again." He quickly explained the situation, his voice rising with each word. Eric promised to check and call back in a few minutes.
"I'm gonna be quick in the shower." Ruben said, turning to his friends. "If Eric calls, can you answer? Please." Walker and Bernardo nodded.
He'd never showered so fast in his life. Emerging a few minutes later, Bernardo was already on the phone.
"I'll tell him, thanks, Eric," Bernardo said, hanging up.
Ruben's heart pounded in his chest. "So?"
"She's there. Broken foot, but she's okay." Bernardo reported.
"For fuck's sake."
You rolled your eyes as Ruben burst into the hospital room. His face was a mask of irritation. Lily, who'd arrived earlier, squeezed your hand in silent support before stepping back.
"Seriously, Y/n?" Ruben’s voice was dripping with disbelief. "I told you to stay put."
"I'm fine, thanks for the concern." You replied, your tone dripping with sarcasm. You loved him and knew he was worried, but sometimes it felt suffocating.
"A broken foot means you’re not." He disagreed. "Can’t you just stay still for one day?"
You didn’t want to argue, especially as he seemed to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed. "I’m a grown woman, Ruben. I don’t need you to tell me to sit still."
"Well, you don’t act like one. Sometimes I feel like I’m dating a child." His response was harsh and unexpected.
Shock washed over you. Had he really just said that?
"Maybe you should break up with this child then. I wouldn’t want to keep the great Ruben Dias from the real women in the city." You retorted, your voice trembling with anger.
He ran his hand through his hair, frustration etched on his face. He knew his words had been cruel, but his worry often manifested in this way. But breaking up with you was the last thing he wanted.
"You know that’s not what I meant-- what are you doing?" He began, but you cut him off as you tried to stand, to reach for the crutches. He pushed you back down, but you quickly pushed his hand away.
"Lily, can you take me home, please?" You asked, ignoring Ruben completely.
Lily, who had been a silent observer, helped you up.
"I can take you home!" Ruben offered.
"I don’t want you to take me home." You replied coldly. "You don’t have a car seat for a child, remember?"
Using crutches was something familiar. This wasn’t your first rodeo. You had broken other body parts before.
In the car, Lily broke the tense silence. "You know he’s just worried about you."
"I know, but that doesn’t give him the right to treat me like a child. "He has known since the beginning how clumsy I am. If he can’t handle it, maybe we shouldn't be together."
"Don’t say that!" Lily replied, her voice firm. "You two can't live without the other." Through the rearview mirror, you saw Ruben’s car following you. "I know it’s hard, but try to understand his point of view."
You looked away, trying to focus on anything but the conversation. You knew Lily was right. Ruben loved you, and his overprotectiveness came from that love. But it was hard to accept when it felt like he was suffocating you.
As the car pulled up to your apartment building, you felt a pang of sadness hit you. Lily opened your door, and carefully you stepped out. "Thanks for everything, Lily. I really appreciate it."
She smiled. "Anytime, Babe! Call me if you need anything, okay?"
You nodded and the the help of the clutches you walked towards the building entrance. As you turned around, you saw Ruben's car waiting for the garage door of the building to open up. You hesitated, looking at his car for a long moment before turning and going inside.
When you entered the house, you realised that your books were scattered like confetti, Ruben's trophies were still on the dining table, and the monstrous bookshelf stood there, a mocking presence in the room. It was impossible to clean it up. Not with your foot like that.
A few minutes later, Ruben entered the house and he looked around it. You were nowhere to be seen, but by the sound of the water running, he knew you were taking a shower. Without his help.
What if you fell? He shocked the thought out of his head. You needed space and he was going to give it to you. Kind of.
Jumping from the shower with only one foot and the other in the air, you dried yourself and put on your pyjamas. You felt like everything was hurting, but you had to prove a point to Ruben. You could do things alone without needing his help.
As you opened the bedroom door, the smell of the food hit you and your belly made a noise, not realising how starving you were. However what surprised you the most was not Ruben cooking but the fact the bookshelf was no longer on the wall that you wanted to paint, but the wall in front of it, with all his trophies and your books. Everything was really clean and the small lamp you had on the corner where you sat reading was welcoming.
The table was set, and Ruben was busy tossing salad at the kitchen island. When he saw you emerge from the bedroom, he paused, his expression softening.
"How are you feeling?" His voice was gentle, laced with concern.
You met his gaze with a cold stare. "Fine."
You grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, walking around the kitchen with surprising ease on your crutches. Ruben watched your movements with a mixture of relief and worry.
He sighed, setting down the salad bowl. "Can we talk?"
You scoffed. "Are you sure you want to do that? You think talking to a child is easy?" Your voice was sharp, but a pang of hurt shot through you as the words left your lips.
Ruben rinsed his hands and pulled out two chairs. Gently, he guided you to one and sat down across from you. His hands rested lightly on your bare legs. "I'm so sorry for calling you a child. I didn't mean it like that, and you know it."
You looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "It still hurt." You mumbled.
"I know, I know. I've been overprotective." He admitted. "But every time you get hurt, it feels like my heart stops. I worry about you constantly. But calling you a child was wrong, and I'm truly sorry."
Your anger was slowly dissipating. You couldn't stay mad at him for long. He always knew how to break through your walls. "You're an idiot if you think this is the last time I'll hurt myself." You retorted, trying to sound tough.
He chuckled softly. "Let me be an idiot, then. I love you, you know that, right?"
Ruben's eyes held yours. Slowly, he leaned forward, his hand reaching out to gently cup your face. Your heart pounded in your chest as his gaze lowered to your lips.
With a hesitant touch, his lips met yours. It was a soft and passionate kiss. As the kiss deepened, you felt a surge of relief and happiness wash over you. In that moment, nothing else mattered.
A small smile crept onto your face. "I know. I love you too."
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devilishchaos · 1 year
Note
your writing is amazing <3 if your requests are still open, could you write fluff fic and smut (if you like), where rúben is really gentle, taking care of you while you’re drunk. perhaps you both went to a party together and we all know that he can’t drink alcohol so he basically takes care of you from the bar/club to your shared house and you were so needy asking him to have sex with you while your drunk.
The one where you get drunk and he looks after you | Rúben Dias imagine
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Rating / genre: fluff
Pairings: Reader x Rúben Dias
Warnings: mentions of drinking, explicit talk, begging
AN: Thank you for requesting <3 I hope you like it! :)
Word Count: 1 743 words
This is a work of fiction. The story, names, characters and incidents either are product or the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
A group evening together with the whole Man City squad and their families usually spelled disaster for all of you, especially when celebrating. 
“Another one!” Jack announces as he hands you another shot. With a click, the two of you are throwing them back. You’re already feeling tipsy and the encouragement is enough to keep you going. 
Rúben is not as nearly far gone as everyone else, telling you to let loose. He holds your hand as you two walk around to the kitchen to find a snack. He giggles at your slight stumble, holding you up successfully. 
“You’re so strong.” you say with a hiccup and Rúben shakes his head with a grin as he forces you to sip on some water in between your next drink. 
John screams as his favorite song comes on, begging you to come join them. You pull Rúben along with you, his hands become steady on your hips as he presses kisses to your neck as the two of you sway in sync. 
You are far gone. Rúben’s hands haven’t left your body, not that you’d complain - you are more than grateful for the way he’s holding you up. 
“Here, let’s get some water in you, amor.” he picks you up and sits you on the counter, finding home between your legs as you sip on a cup of water. 
“Good girl.” he says, pushing your hair from your face. 
“You can not say that to me right now, Dias.” you say, wiggling your eyebrows “Nuh uh, no mister. Not when you look like this.” you give him a pout, only causing him to smile. 
*
The whole journey home was filled with conversation, from only one of you in the car. Light giggles were the only thing that came from Rúben, as you spoke about anything that came to mind, slurring most of your words.
“This place looks familiar..” you whispered as you pulled up outside your shared apartment. 
“There’s a reason for that.” Rúben sighed, getting himself out of the car before giving you a helping hand.
As soon as you stepped foot into the apartment, you threw yourself down onto the sofa, lifting your feet up for Rúben to untie the laces of your strappy heels and strip your jacket off of you. You could feel his eyes studying you closely with every little thing you did, bringing a light red blush to your face.
“What are you looking at?” you giggled as he lifted your legs up, sitting himself down on the sofa before moving your legs across to rest in his lap “Why do you keep looking at me like that? Have I got something on my face or on my jeans? Oh, man..not my jeans.”
Rúben rolled his eyes “Your jeans are fine, and so is your face. I’m just admiring how you look when you’re drunk.” 
“Is that because you looooooove me?” you cheekily asked, holding your hand out for him to take a hold of “Because I love you, I love you a lot. Have I told you that I love you?” 
“I think you might have mentioned it a couple of times Y/N, don’t worry about that.” Rúben assured you. 
As the room darkened and finally silence began to descend upon you, the dizzy state you had found yourself in for most of the night began to subside. It didn’t stop your eyes from staring across at Rúben though, focussing on the feeling of his hands running against the bare skin of your ankles. 
“Rúben..” you whispered, breaking up the silence in the room “..come lay with me for a bit?” you questioned, tapping the space beside you on the sofa. 
Without a second thought, Rúben lifted your legs up so that he could swing his frame around to rest against the back of the sofa. The stench of alcohol hit him as soon as he got close enough to your face, as he pressed a kiss against your cheek. 
“You smell nice.” your voice was muffled against the collar of his shirt. Breaths of warm air brushed against his neck and Rúben clenched his jaw in a half-ditched effort to seize the pounding in his chest. Surely you could hear it. 
“Let’s get you to bed, amor.” Rúben said softly, as he got up from the sofa and took you with him, starting to take a step backward. You kept your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, but you allowed your legs to follow him. Steady, careful steps were taken as Rúben continued to walk backwards towards the bedroom. 
His hand felt around for the door knob and he twisted it open. You had yet to lift your head from the alcove of his neck, sighing contently as he pulled you into the room. Rúben flicked the light switch on at your bedside, illuminating the room in a soft white hue in an effort to preserve the sensitivity in your eyes. 
“I’m going to find some sleep clothes for you, alright?” Rúben asked, as he reached behind him and pulled your arms from around his waist. The flash of disappointment across your face as your lips tugged into a frown did not slip his notice. He set you against the edge of the bed, a steady hand on your shoulder to make sure you were balanced. He turned back towards the closet. 
“You want to sleep in my clothes or yours, baby?” Rúben scratched at his head, tucking his hair behind his ears. 
“Baby?”
When he turned back towards you, a gasp caught in his throat to find you standing just inches away. How you managed to sneak up on him in this state, he’ll never know. You were staring at his lips, breathing heavily as eyes slowly trailed up to meet his. If Rúben thought his heart was beating painfully before..
A brush of your fingers at his waist line, playing with the edge of his shirt forced a gulp out of him. You purse your lips into a mischievous grin, grabbing at the fabric. 
“Take this off.” 
“W-what?” Rúben stuttered. God, he was never as nervous as he was around you. 
You leaned forward, hands releasing the fabric and trailing along his stomach under his shirt. Nails gently dragging over his skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Before Rúben could say a word, your lips were on his neck. 
“A-amor, hold on now..” Rúben started, though he found he couldn’t finish where he was going. He couldn’t remember what he was even going to say, not with the way your lips were sucking so sweetly against that spot on his neck that drove him wild, traveling up to pepper kisses along his jaw. He closed his eyes, relishing in the sensation you left behind with each kiss. He knew he should stop you, but, God, how could he possibly when your lips were on the corner of his mouth? 
The moment you pressed your lips to his, he froze, hands out to the side. Your soft, plump lips kissed at his own, tongue dragging against the bottom of his lip, until you bit down, not enough to hurt but enough that it took Rúben out of his trance. 
His hands came up to the sides of your face, holding you against him as he parted his lips further for you. It was wet and messy, and rushed, and nothing like he thought it would be as you moaned into his mouth, sending a jolt below his waistline. The way you were tugging at him, the way his hands tangled in your knotted hair, it was all so much rougher than he wanted it to be. But with your tongue sweeping over his, all he could think about was how bad he wanted this. 
“Amor..” you moaned and Rúben nearly came on the spot “..Rúben..please, I need you to fuck me.” 
Rúben pulled away instantly, panting heavily. Eyes wide as you sat down on the bed, reaching to pull your shirt over your head. He couldn’t believe what he was doing, but hands darted out to grab yours before you had the chance to remove the fabric. 
“Wait a second, amor.” Rúben urged, stare caught on your swollen lips. He was screaming in his own head. 
You frowned “Rú, please. Fuck me.” 
The heavy slur of your words. The way your eyes couldn’t quite focus on him. The sway of your body, unable to keep balance even as you sat on the bed. You weren’t in your right mind. He should have known that from the moment you touched him. 
“Fuck.” Rúben cursed under his breath, the realization of what he was doing flooding through him. He took a step back, brushing his hand over his mouth “I- I can’t, amor. I’m sorry.” 
“But, Rúbenn..” you wined, grabbing at his arms and pulling yourself back to your feet. Your lips connected with his neck again and he had to stifle a moan before it came out. His hands set carefully on your shoulders in an effort to push you away. He couldn’t do this to you, not like this. 
Your lips came back to his own and Rúben pulled away reluctantly. It killed him to do so, tore at his chest in every painful way imaginable, but he did it. 
“Not like this, baby.” he urged and pushed softly against your shoulders, keeping you at a distance. Your eyes searched his, confusion evident across your features “Not now, maybe later..” 
“Why don’t you lie down, for now, hm?” Rúben gestured towards the bed. You followed his gaze and nodded slowly. All of your energy seemed to drain away in an instant. He had to nearly carry you to the side of the bed. Lifting the covers and tucking two pillows under your head to aid in the dizziness, Rúben helped to tuck you in. A warm smile pulled at the corners of your lips as you closed your eyes, just barely visible, enough so that he would have missed it if he wasn’t watching you so closely. 
He leaned forward and pressed his lips to your forehead. A couple pain relievers and a glass of water by your bedside were left for you. He changed into some comfy clothes and joined you to bed, plopping down with a heavy sigh. His fingers brushed up at his lips, the sensation of you still tingling there. 
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legend-the-dumb-jock · 6 months
Text
Gavin has been searching online for a long time for something that belongs to Rúben Dias. His ultimate soccer crush. Finding his way on a random auction site he stumbled across someone saying they were selling genuinely heavily worn clothes that belongs to the soccer stud himself. Immediately he bought the equipment. He was willing to take the risk. After all he needed it for the next phase of his plan.
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The box arrive quickly and with a warning and when he opened the box he could tell why. The box really did contain a heavy smell. The clothes were unwashed and they had Rúben’s smell still caked into them. A shirt. Short. Jock strap. Shoes and socks. He got a complete outfit that was previously worn by the soccer stud. Gavin wasted no time in putting the filthy clothes on. Taking extra time to smell the shoes of the soccer hunk while the crusty jock socks were placed on his feet.
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The clothes were huge compared to him. But he planned to change that. Now that he had the clothes and the smells of the jock he could his fantasies come true.
“I revoke ownership of my body I’m going for a win. Rúben Dias, make me his identical twin!”
Instantly pain shot through Gavin. He could feel his foot growing to fill the shoes. His towers widening and he could see them pushing against the fabric of the large soccer cleats. His legs began to bulk with muscle and hair just as if he had been kicking soccer balls his whole life. His waist pulled in his abs be an to form giving him a thin athletic frame. He was beginning to sweat from all the pain. He was smelling just like the real owner of the clothes he now possessed. Looking in the mirror he was watched as his face slowly shifted a beard began to grow on his jaw line as his teeth got slightly bigger. With a shudder of finality, his body went slack. Falling into his new permanent form. Her could beleive it !! He was now literally identical to the hot soccer player he listed after.
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Gavin got up and stretched his now muscular body. “Ahhh” he said in his new voice. Stretching every new muscle he would be working with for the rest of his life. Smelling the new smell he would now have. Looking through the eyes of a different viewpoint. He went to his room. He needs to see what it was like downstairs now. He felt a assocs weight in his crotch.
When he pulled his shorts down he gasped. He wasn’t disappointed. He knew Rúben was packing. But he didn’t expect to mention huge ! He began to leak pre on his dirty shoes and locks. Ot was dropped down his leg freely from his excitement. But now that he has the body of the soccer stud he needed to begin the next step of his plan.
Gravin was very familiar with the soccer studs training schedule. He waiting until late one night broke into the stadium when the star was on the field alone. He got the attention of the man who looked at him confused. Joe was he looking at homeland. This didn’t make sense !! He got closer and was in shock. And when the man was in hands reach he was so thrown off by what was going on that he didn’t he noticed the needle that was quickly plunged into his neck. Knocking out.
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Gavin wasted no time. The spell was meant to be permanent but there was a catch. And the real Rúben was going to help him fulfill it. He drug him to the locker rooms. Undressing his twin he couldn’t help but feel aroused seeing everything g he now had from his own viewpoint. The rush was intoxicating. But he had to act fast. Taking some clothes out of his back pack that smelled horribly he put them on Rúben. Chanting with excitement. “The man before me cannot be. The only twin can be me! Alter his body, give him a change. Give a look that makes him strange!” Right before Gavin the passed out Rúben began to morph into another man. His bones cracking and his look shifting to another. Now. Gavin was the only Rúben. The real Rúben. He called security and had them kick the homeless looking man out of the locker rooms.
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Every time Rúben goes to the stadium he sees the crazed homeless man with his sign. Begging for help. Pleading that people help him get his body back. He had to be kicked out of the stat room several times because he was trying to attack Rúben demanding to get his body back. But as the months passed the homeless became just another crazed man on the streets that no one beleive. This last time in the hospital he was given electroshock therapy. Now he was completely harmless. His old life finally gone and only leaving the life of the homeless man he now was.
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Gavin on the other hand took over Rúben’s life completely. He would wake up in the morning and do his workouts. He would flex his perfect body. He would bend those meaty toes. And enjoyed the smells that his new body had. And he definitely love the monster cock he was now blessed with. His life couldn’t be any better. And now that he had the perfect body. He took pride in showing it off. He loved breeding the men on his soccer team and making the worship his stinky jock feet. They would beg him to see his naked body and his massive cock and it always came with a price that his team was more than willing to pay. Everyone of them had been on their knees or bent over the locker room bench by the new and improved Rúben. And he did t plan on ever going back to “his” old ways.
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