#ruben dias request
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errythinisblue · 2 years ago
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melanieph321 · 4 days ago
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Hello :) could you do an imagine/story where Ruben and reader have a boy and he is a big momma’s boy like he’s jealous when Ruben kiss reader please (sorry for my bad English btw) if you don’t feel comfortable writing it that’s okay
I LOVE THIS REQUEEEST! 🤭💓🤭💓
Please keep em coming!
10 DAYS OF REQUESTS
(DAY 1)
Ruben Dias - Mommy's Boy
This one is so funny 😭
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Enjoy!
Having a six year old boy seemed more of a challenge than having a four - or three year old boy.
Six was the age of discovery. Discovery of how spicy a Portuguese pepper can be when devoured raw. Discovery of how fast a bicycle can travel downhill when you take off the training wheels. Or your son's most recent discovery — How high the swing in the backyard goes before its ropes snap and lunges him across mommy's neatly pruned rose bushes.
"My arm!" Your son cried out, as you and Ruben rushed down the steps to the backyard.
You had witnessed it all from the kitchen window. The last part at least, when the swings ropes snapped and your son's body was thrown across the yard. Before then, Ruben had your back pressed against the refrigerator, his lips tracing ever so gently down the slope of your neck while his rough hands crept up your thighs and under your dress. Nedless to say that your son's cries stopped it all, to your husband's annoyance, of course.
"Help, mommy. It hurts!" Your son cried, as you fought to get him out from the leaves and thornes. He was all bruised up once you did.
"I'll go get the band-aids." Ruben sighed. He returned to the house while you carried your son to the steps leading up to it. Your son cradled in your arms, his dark hair head nuzzling into the pit of your embrace as the two of you settled down.
"Oh, hubby." You cooed. "Why do you always have to get yourself into such trouble? Can't you see how you keep scaring mommy to death."
Your son sniffled in response. "I'm sorry mommy."
"Oh, no. There's nothing to be sorry about. It was all an accident."
"Yeah, right." A voice scolded behind you. Ruben, appearing in the backdoor with the band-aids in his hand. He dropped them in your lap and joined you and your son on the steps.
"Baby, what's gotten into you?" You said, noting the bitterness in Ruben's comment.
"Nothing, nothing." He muttered. "It's just funny that..." He paused to reconsider his words.
"Ruben?" Your narrowed gaze challenge for him to go on.
He shook his head with laughter and disbelief. "I dunno Y/N, but don't you think that it's very coincidental that every time the two of us....well...."
"Well?" You frowned, rocking the sniffling boy in your arms.
Ruben looked to your son, however, not with the same empathy as you. "If I put it this way. Last week, the two of us were in our room, in bed, doing what adults do during late hours, especially after a well played game like mine—."
"Ruben." Heat suddenly flushed to your cheeks. You knew exactly what events of last week that Ruben was referring to. However, it was highly inappropriate to bring up such subjects amongst children. "Your point is?" You emphasized.
"My point is..." Ruben declared. "I barely got to touching you that night before little Romeo here came running into our room with a burning tongue." Ruben's eyes darted at your son, who snickered at the phrase "Little Romeo."
"Honey." You felt obligated to defend your son. "He simply mistook your mom's peppers for a regular Bell one."
"Mistook my ass! What was he even doing roaming around in the kitchen that late at night? And do you remember that time we took the training wheels off his bicycle and he conveniently decided to send it down the hill. Do you remember that time?"
"Yes, Ruben. But what's that got to do with anything?"
Your husband ran a hand through his hair, looking to calm himself down. "All I'm saying is that you wouldn't leave his side after our son got his knees bruised up from his hell ride. Same thing as today. I mean, look at him."
You both tilted your heads to meet the bright beaming eyes of your son, who seemed delighted to be curled up in your arms despite becoming way too big to do so.
"Look, the thornes didn't even manage to cut him up that deep. I bet he just saw us kissing through the window while on the swing and decided to lunge himself off of it."
"Ruben?" You gasped. "Are you telling me that our son injures himself purposely just to get our attention?"
"Your attention." Ruben corrected.
You looked to your son and back to Ruben. "I can't believe you."
"Don't believe me? Fine, I'll prove it." Ruben's hand reached for the nape of your neck, tilting your head with the motion of drawing you towards him. Towards his lips, to be exact. But before his parted mouth could even brush pass your own, your son erupted in an ear shattering wail.
"Told you." Ruben grinned and let go of your neck.
You were perplexed, looking down at your son whose face had gone red from crying. He held up his finger, offering it to you. "It hurts, mommy. Kiss and make it better."
"I—"
Behind you, Ruben was trembling with laughter. "Huh, it seems like I'm competing with my son for my own wife's attention."
"But that...." You regarded them both in confusion. The whole thing utterly absurd.
"Don't worry." Ruben pressed a swift kiss to your cheek and rose from the steps, looking to return the band-aids. He paused in the door. "Our son will grow out of it. In the meantime, I guess he can have you....at least during the day."
The wink of Ruben's eye sent a tickling shiver down your spine. You quickly shook out of it to address your son. "You. Little. Gremlin." He giggled at your choice of words, and so you resorted to torturing him by tickling his belly. "You are such a mommy's boy, aren't you? A mommy's boy, that's what you are."
"Mommy, stop it. I can't breathe." He laughed.
"Oh, no. Not so fast." You continued poking his little belly. It was the least you could do for raising such a menace.
The tickling seized once the two of you were left breathless. By then, your torturing methods shifted to a serenation of kisses. Kisses you thought would annoy your son. Instead, he squirmed beaneth you, each peck of your lips making him errupt in joyous shouts. Perhaps Ruben was right that your sons admiration for you wouldn't last forever. Until then, you were going to enjoy having a little mommy's boy all to yourself.
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oh-saints · 8 months ago
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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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anaitm0 · 11 months ago
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somno with ruben 🤭 like js imagine him coming home late and finding u asleep
while you were asleep
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summary: ruben finds you asleep on the couch after his training
pairing: ruben dias x reader
your phone buzzed and lit up the darkness of room as you slowly regained consciousness, you fumbled to grab it. it was a text from ruben, "i'll be home in about 45 minutes, training was so long today, wait for me?" you smiled to yourself replying with a single heart emoji, telling him that you'll be waiting.
you laid on the couch, feeling exhausted and wanting to stay awake as you waited for your boyfriend to return.
you grabbed the remote to turn on the TV, hoping the noise and light would keep you awake. but it seemed like your plan didn't work and you slowly start to drift off into a deep sleep.
that's when you feel exhausted and your eyes start to droop. the fatigue and tiredness were too much to fight anymore and you felt yourself slowly drift off to sleep. before you knew it, you were lost in a deep slumber on the couch.
you were still fast asleep when ruben entered the house, still wearing his training clothes from earlier. “baby?” he called looking around the living room as he rested his bag in the ground.
he walked over to the couch, noticing you wrapped up in a blanket on the couch, sleeping deeply with the tv shining a light onto your face.
ruben leaned down to kiss your forehead, his lips grazing your skin as his breath tickles your face.
just then, your eyes slowly fluttered open, the dim light of the living room washing over your eyes.
"what happened?" you asked, looking up at him, feeling both confused and a bit embarrassed by the whole situation.
"you must’ve fell asleep” he said, chuckling.
he smiled and caressed your face, gently brushing your hair out of your eyes as he continues to admire you. "sorry if I disturbed you" he whispered. "wanted to see your face."
he stared at you for a moment, a tender look in his eyes. "you look so beautiful right now" he whispered.
ruben brung his face close to yours, his breath tickling your skin as he got closer. he looked into your eyes for a moment, taking in all your presence before he leaned down to kiss you softly.
his lips met yours and you could feel your body tremble slightly. he pulled away, leaving a trail of kisses along your neck.
you giggled as you feel the tickling sensation against your skin. your laughter continued as you felt him slowly moving his body over yours, his weight pressing you gently into the couch.
"i missed you like crazy today” he says gently, his voice husky and full of desire.
he lightly trailed his fingers along your cheek as you felt your face heat up despite the warm embrace of ruben's presence.
“i missed you too” you replied smiling.
you sat up and stretched your legs over ruben's lap. you were still tired from your slumber but you were glad he was back.
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doinggreat · 1 year ago
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gadriezmannsgirl · 4 months ago
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Imagine your beautiful way of writing w the the beautiful man the Ruben is,Is just giving me chills😭😭😭😭
🥹🫶🏼 it's coming soon, dear anon
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Kinda want to write a dad Ruben fic but I can't write until late next week so maybe send some scenarios instead 🫣
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devilishchaos · 1 year ago
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Request Rules and Guidance*
Requests are currently OPEN, for Mr. Rúben Dias. :) x
Thank you to everyone who reads, reblogs, likes and gives me feedback when it comes to my work. <3
Thank you everybody, who have sent requests so far and to everyone who is thinking about sending some. <3 I love reading your requests and working on them. Hopefully I'm fulfilling your requests and I am reviving your fantasies. x
I write for my sake most of the time. Because I want to; it's fun, relaxing and it entertains me. I do it when I want to, when I can or I feel inspired.
I'm a college student and I often choose to spend some of my free time writing or reading, but sometimes I need a break from writing. It may take awhile for me to post an imagine, so please be patient with me.
Keep in mind that I don’t answer requests until I finish writing / editing them. Time and day is determined by me. There’s no guarantee I will write your request right away or ever. Sometimes I don't have the creative capacity, so I need more time..it can take months. I simply can’t write every single request that comes my way. Don't take it personal.
What you should know before sending a request:
Please be polite when requesting. 
I don’t write imagines in a specific order. I write based on what inspires me the most, not by who requested first.
I will continue to write imagines that I want / I like / I think of.
Please try to be as detailed as possible in your request. It speeds up the writing process and gives me a bit of inspiration to make it as good as it can be.
If you can't specify, don't get discouraged, just give me a one sentence concept or say you give me a green light and permission to be creative with the plot.
If I choose to write your request, I’ll reply to it publicly on my blog.
If I decide NOT to write a request or if a request makes me uncomfortable enough that I know I won’t write it, I will probably not reply to it and just delete it from my Ask.
Reader’s gender will be mostly female.
I will put a trigger warning at the beginning of every imagine so that I don't put my readers at risk. 
If your request seems like too much of a repeat of something I’ve already written or read, I may or may not direct you to that imagine instead of trying to rewrite it. 
Please do not feel as though your request is crappy.
Sometimes I might give a twist to a request, for it to be a bit easier to write with my style or I might combine two or more requests.
Feel free to give me feedback.
I WRITE:
- imagines;
- one shots;
- one sentence concepts (might be icluded in an imagine and / or combined with other concepts);
- character x reader;
- character x me;
- dad!character x reader;
- husband!character x reader;
- fluff;
- smut;
- a little angst;
- slight kinkiness (choking, spitting in each others mouth, hair grabbing but affectionately, ect.).
I DON'T WRITE:
- A - Z NSFW content;
- au;
- song prompts;
- sad concepts;
- preferences;
- drabbles / blurbs - I can't write only a couple words / sentences;
- don't know how I feel about headcons / reactions..never written any;
- toxic or illegal ships;
- the reader / or the person that I'm writing for is a different species (wolf, fox, bunny, etc.);
- incest;
- pedophilia;
- abortion / miscariage;
- depressed, su!c!dal, abused readers;
- assault or stalking;
- death;
- racism, sexism, ablism, transphobia, homophobia or any other form of bigotry;
- political or social issues;
- hateful, discriminatory or offensive requests;
- LGBTQ+;
- BDSM;
- degradation / humiliation;
- foot fetish; or any kind of fetish (strangling, daddy / mommy, blood, necrophilia, ect.);
- drug addiction.
*the rules and guidance will be updated regularly.
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melanieph321 · 4 months ago
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HI!! I love your writing!! 💓💓 I read that you will make 7 days of requests so I sent you one, I wanted to ask you for rubén.
where reader is pep's daughter and is secretly with rubén, she is a physiotherapist but from manchester united, when one evening they all meet at pep's house for a team dinner, reader's older sister hits on rubén and so when he's not there anymore reader takes him to his childhood room and they do dirty things 🫢, but when they finish and go out there's pep outside and in the end they confess and he simply replies "I already knew".
THANK YOU IF YOU HAD TO DO IT I LOVE YOU 💓💓💓
Love this request. Made a couple of changes to the plot, I hope you don't mind.
Thank you ❤️
SEVEN DAYS OF REQUESTS 3.0
(DAY 4)
Ruben Dias x Reader - Meet And Greet
+18
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Reader is Pep Guardiola's daughter and is dating Ruben without her dad's knowledge. However, that changes during a family BBQ.
Enjoy!
You couldn't believe your eyes. Your dad told you to come home for the weekend because he was hosting a BBQ. However, he never told you that he invited the entire Manchester City squad as well.
You were watching from your bedroom window. Watching how your backyard flooded with a sea of world-class football players, all munching on burgers, hot dogs, and your dads famous smoked paella.
"Y/N, Y/N!"
There was a knock on your door, followed by your little sister stumbling into your room.
"What is it, Nadia?"
"Papa wants you to come downstairs."
"Let me get dressed first. I'll be down in a minute."
"Okay, I'll tell him you said that." Giddy with excitement, she rushed out of the room, only to rush back through the door a split second later. "Oh and Y/N...."
"What?"
She grinned. "Ruben is here."
Your heart skipped a beat. However, you tried to play it cool. "Did he ask about me?"
"Yes, he told me to tell you that he's saving a seat for you at the table. But don't you think it would be stupid of you two to..."
"I got it Nadia. Thank you for the message."
"I'm just saying...." She continued, again reminding you to never ask an eight year old to keep a secret. "....won't dad be suspicious seeing you all cozy with one of his players?"
"Nadia, please." You sighed. "I need to get dressed. I promise to come downstairs in a minute."
"Okay." She shirrped and skipped out of your room, down the hall and back downstairs.
You were left to do your makeup, but you decided to keep it clean and natural. You then went over to your closet, anxious to pick the appropriate outfit. It was a family gathering, meaning you should present yourself as homely and tidy. However, knowing that Ruben was amongst the guests fueled a desire in you to keep things interesting. It was risky. Nevertheless, you came downstairs wearing your favorite summer dress. Correction: Ruben's favorite summer dress.
¡Cariño, ahí estás! (Honey, there you are!)
You had just stepped foot into the backyard when your dad, as always, decide to embarrass you.
"Everyone, say hello to my daughter, Manchester United best physiotherapist!"
He got some giggles for his troubles. However, the joke about your profession was getting old. Everyone had accepted it. Even the media had stopped writing ironic articles about it.
"Hi, honey. You look lovely."
"Thank you, Mami." You kissed her cheeks, unlike your dad. She was happy to see you, but not enough to announce it to the entire world.
"Are you hungry? There's plenty of food."
"Yes, I'll grab something. Just let me say hello to everyone."
You took a lap around the crowded backyard. Except for the Man City squad, your dad also invited the neighbors, making it a block party at its finest. Your first thought was, "How did all these people get here?" You had seen some of the players pull up in their luxury vehicles, but you hadn't expected an invasion of this magnitude. The backyard was usually quiet and peaceful, a place where Nadia could escape the chaos of school, chasing her favorite butterflies. Now, it was a bustling party scene.
"Y/N, Y/N, look who I found."
Speaking of the devil. You were ambushed by your sister, who seemed to enjoy running amongst the many guests. She grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the swimming pool, where a bar had been set up. A bar, surrounded by people and one particular person who caught your eye.
"I told him to wait for you to get dressed." Said Nadia, who eagerly guided you towards your boyfriend.
"Hi." Ruben smiled.
"Hi." You blushed.
"Oh, I know!" Your sister squeald. "I can keep dad distracted if you want?"
"Great idea, Nadita! You do that."
You were relieved to see your sister make her way through the crowd, leaving you and Ruben alone.
"I'm sorry if she's been bothering you."
"No need to apologize." Ruben chuckled. He looked so good and charming in his knewly cut hair, and he wore a shirt and jeans that complimented his fairly tanned skin.
"Have you grabbed anything to eat yet?" He asked.
"No, you?"
"Yes, actually. Who knew your dad could make a mean cheeseburger?"
"Please don't." You chuckled. No one had more experience than you when it came to your dad's BBQ obsession. You looked over to where he stood, tending the grill. He expertly flipped the steaks while chatting with guests. Your mom was busy too, refilling plates and passing out cold drinks to some players.
"Who knew?" Ruben mumbled.
"Yeah, I guess it's his thing besides coaching you guys."
"Yeah, no. I'm not talking about that."
You turned to find Ruben's eyes on you, or your dress to be exact.
"Who knew a person could look so good in a dress." He said, leaning forward, surprising you with a kiss on the cheek.
"Baby?" You gasped. "Not here. Not where people can see."
"Then take me somewhere no one can." His eyes said it all, a devious glimpse reflected in them. You shook your head at the audacity. Still, the whey Ruben's fingers nipped at the hemn of your dress was more than tempting.
"How about a tour of the house?" You whispered.
"After you."
It was a quick house tour, skipping most of the rooms downstairs, heading straight to the second floor.
"....Here's our bathroom. Over there you have my parents room, Nadia's room. And here....." You led Ruben down the hall, stopping at the end of it. "Here you have my room."
Ruben took it in, his eyes wandering from the floor to the sealing. He admired the pictures on your walls, along with the photographs of you as a child, missing a couple of front teeth.
"Cute." He chuckled.
"I was ten."
"A cute ten year old."
"Creepy, but thanks." You wrapped your arms around his neck, guidning Ruben to the middle of the room.
"I'm creepy?" He said, allowing you to lead him across the room, towards your bed. There the two of you laid down and let your lips collide for the first time that night.
"Yes. But only a little creepy." You giggled.
"Oh, yeah? Does it turn you on?"
"You wish."
Ruben laughed but took the liberty to fold the bottom of your dress, revealing your polkadot panties. "Polkadots, interesting."
"My mom is doing laundry. Don't laugh at them."
"Who's laughing?" Ruben scooted down, aligning his face with your pelvis, draping your legs to rest on each of his shoulders. "I love polkadots."
You bit down on your lip as Ruben kissed the insides of your thighs. He knew what he was doing. Ruben always knew exactly what he was doing to you. Your hands made a mess of his hair. Gripping a bundle of it to prevent yourself from moaning his name. He was licking you now. Ruben had pushed your panties to the side just so he could swipe his tongue across your center, making his way upwards, then downwards, repeating the motion until you were pliant. Pliant enough to fit the size of his fingers.
"Ruben." You slapped a hand against your mouth, never meant to let such a rough moan escape.
Ruben drummed a laugh below your stomach but seized to please you with the same intensity. "You taste so good, I couldn't help myself." He came up to kiss you, his weight pressing you down against the matress.
"We have to get back to the party, or else my dad might notice that I'm gone."
Ruben looked down. "Great."
"What?" You chuckled.
"You totally made me lose my boner."
"Me?" You gasped.
"Yes, you." Ruben pressed a swift kiss to your lips before backing off. He offered you a hand, helping you up and out of your bed. He then waited for you to straighten out your dress, as well as change your panties.
"To mention your dad, my coach, should be illegal when I'm trying to fuck you." He said, as the two of you made your way downstairs, back to the party in the backyard.
"Well, at least now I know how to get you off of me." You teased.
"Eww, no. Please don't."
The two of you made your way through the crowd, on your way back to the pool. There the two of you could have some privacy, far away from your dads grill.
"Y/N!"
You flinched at the sound of his stern voice. You and Ruben had just walked past it, the grill, when your dad, out of nowhere, popped his bald head in front of you like a jack in a box.
"Dad....what's up?" You immediately let go of Ruben's hand, forgetting that you had been holding onto it as you left the house.
"Did he like it?" Your dad said, with his usually taunting smile.
"Did who, like what?" You frowned.
"Ruben." He folded his arms. "Did he like our home, considering the two of you were gone for so long."
"Oh."
Heat rose to your face. You could sense Ruben's angst bedside you too as your dad darted at him with laser in his eyes.
"Coach, I can explain...."
"No need, son. I already know."
"What?" Heads briefly turned with your sudden exclamation. "How do you know about me and Ruben?" You said, eager to know.
"Well, firstly...." Your dad perked up. "I am a very smart man. A very very smart man."
"Dad, please." You sighed.
"Okay, fine. Your sister told me."
"Nadia?" You gasped. "That traitor."
"That's what happens when you ask a eight year old to keep a secret."
"I should have known." You mumbled.
"Anyway." Your dad cleared his throat. "I'm assuming that this has been going on for a while."
"A year." You nodded and felt slightly guilty about lying to him for so long. You grabbed a hold of Ruben's hand, squeezing it. "I only kept it from you, though. Mom also knows."
"Great. You give your children life, a home and this how they repay you."
"My apologies, coach." Ruben stepped up. "It's mainly because of me that Y/N wanted to keep our relationship a secret. I just never wanted to put you in a position where your job as my coach has been compromised."
"Well, we're way past that, don't you think?"
Ruben blushed.
Your dad chuckled and stepped in between you, wrapping his arms around the both of you. "No more lying, okay."
"Okay." You nodded and so did Ruben.
"Alright." He rubbed his hands together, making his way back towards the grill. "If there's nothing else you wish to tell me I say, welcome to the family, Ruben."
"Erm....thanks." Ruben scratched the back of his head. You, on the other hand, couldn't be happier, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend while whispering the words "Thank you." to your dad who raised his spatula in a celebratory gesture.
THE END
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oh-saints · 10 months ago
Note
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 &lt;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?”
251 notes · View notes
anaitm0 · 11 months ago
Note
Some fluff for ruben perhaps?? Ruben cooks breakfast in bed for his gf 🥰
blueberry pancakes
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summary: ruben surprises you with breakfast in bed
pairing: ruben dias x reader
warnings: none just fluff
a/n: sorry ik it’s really short but i hope you like it!!
you sat up in bed, stretching your arms as you did so. you yawned, it was still early days in your relationship and you didn’t quite know his routine. however, you wondered where he was and what he could be doing at such an early hour, his absence suddenly making you miss the comfort of his presence.
just as you were about to call his name, the sound of footsteps caught your attention. the door to the room creaked open, ruben stepping quietly inside, holding a small tray.
on it were three perfectly round pancakes, covered in juicy blueberries. his expression is apologetic, though it was clear he was trying to be as quiet as possible.
“oh ruben, you really didn’t have to..”
“i know, but i wanted too.” ruben gave you a sheepish grin, as if he sensed your words.
“they do smell wonderful, but when did you know how to cook?" you giggled, smiling at ruben as you take a pancake off the tray.
"i've been practicing for you" he answered with a proud grin. "I'm still not that good at it but I wanted to try and make something for you" he added, his tone turning slightly nervous which you found cute.
"well I really appreciate it love" you say with another smile, taking a bite of the pancake.
as you took another bite of the pancake, you looked up to see rubens shy grin and nervous expression,before you can say anything, his lips gently brush against your cheek.
you ate the last bite of your pancake and set the tray aside, ruben softly caresses your cheek and kisses you on the forehead. he whispered softly into your ear "I love you, and I'm so glad you liked them."
the room was still and quiet, as if time stood still to give you both this moment together. you felt warm and safe in Ruben's arms, feeling more in love with him than ever before.
242 notes · View notes
afterglowsainz · 4 months ago
Text
exile | joão felix
summary: no one knows about joão’s girlfriend, until an invitation to go to a game and an undesired ship with one of his teammates leaves him no choice but to post you
fc: various girls from pinterest
request: here
a/n: in honor of portugal classifying to quarterfinals … love joão i swear!! sorry it took me so long to write this it was just very general but i still hope you like it <3
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liked by yourusername, jpcancelo and others
joaofelix79 🇵🇹❤️
view all comments
username let’s goooo!
username YOU’RE SO FINE
username we’re soooo back
username 🤷🏽
username im rooting for you 🔥
yourusername ✨✨✨ (liked by joaofelix79)
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liked by bffusername, joaofelix79 and others
yourusername last days visiting💐
view all comments
friend1 ughhh so gorgeous!
friend2 have fun! miss you💗
bffusername prize to the prettiest girl
friend3 MINE
joaofelix79 😍
friend4 officially in love with you
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liked by f1gossip, barcawags and others
mancitywags ruben dias was seen after the portugal vs czechia game talking with his partners and a mysterious brunette who can possibly be his new girlfriend
tagged rubendias
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username wow wow wow hold on
username omg she’s pretty!
username someone know who she is?
username i’ve been looking for her but she doesn’t seem to be famous
username damn ruben moves fast
username they look good together 🥰
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liked by cristiano, yourusername and others
joaofelix79 quarters 🇵🇹
tagged cristiano
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username 🔥🔥🔥
username we’re winning this
username incredible performance so far!
cristiano 🇵🇹🇵🇹🇵🇹
yourusername cuteee🥰 (liked by joaofelix79)
username omg???
username isn’t she the girl that was seen with ruben?
username suspicious 🤨
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liked by mancitywags, f1gossip and others
footballgossip the portugal national team was seen last night partying and ruben dias was spotted once again with the mysterious brunette which name is y/n y/l/n
tagged rubendias and yourusername
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username but wasn’t she commenting on joão’s post???
username and he comments on hers too🤨
username weeeeird
username maybe they’re just friends?
username why is she famous anyway?
username she isn’t
username guy she just went private 😩
username well i can’t blame her she went from having 800 followers to 350k in two hours
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liked by yourusername, rubendias and others
joaofelix79 quality time❤️
tagged yourusername
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username WHAAAAT
username omg i can’t even process the first pic much less the other two
username last pic is so cute 🥰
rubendias clearing up the gossip 🤣
joaofelix79 the party rumor was a bit much
rubendias agree!
yourusername oh my god 🙄
username lol this team is not serious
username and now i’m in love with her
yourusername niceeee😮‍💨
joaofelix79 😇
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blush-pedri · 4 months ago
Text
fans are assholes | r. dias
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summary: fans compare your pregnancy to fellow wags, leaving you to feel not so good.
notes: as requested! i don’t think i specified that it was twins but it still works. dad!ruben has to be my fav genre 🤪 i hope you all enjoy, some very cute at moments 💘 let me know what you all think! <3
IT WAS MATCH DAY, and although you were feeling rough like you had done the last 7 months, you had promised your fiancé you would make it to today’s knockout game rather than watching from home. he wanted you to support from the stadium, but he also wanted to get you out of the house too.
you were 32 weeks along and feeling very heavily pregnant.
yeah, it’s all fun and games when dating a tall man until you have to grow his unnecessarily large children.
all you wanted to do was lie down and moan this entire trimester, having nothing but a hard time with this one you were growing. you’d had every bad symptom imaginable, from the nonstop sickness and heartburn, to back and hip pain, difficulty sleeping and sore boobs, and now in the final stages you were experiencing braxton hicks, so yeah - all you did want was to lie down and whine. more than ever, you just wanted to stay in the comfort of your own home and nest.
“—you’re not even nesting though! you’re sitting here watching tv all day! get up and get ready!” rúben had said to you just yesterday morning after you’d told him you were too busy nesting to grab a coffee with him before training.
“mama, i think you should go tomorrrow . .” another sweet voice said from the sofa, glancing sympathetically in your direction.
your sweet boy, elias, didn’t want to offend you and make you feel like a slob, but he really wanted you both to go to his papa’s games. with school, you didn’t allow him to go to any late night matches which were always the majority, but tomorrow’s kickoff was 3:30pm and when he pitched the idea, you felt awful for feeling like you’d deprived him of some fun memories.
you really didn’t want to go, but your baby boy deserved it. he’d been working so hard in the last weeks of school and rúben would agree that you needed to take him - he wanted you both there just as much but he also knew not to tell a pregnant woman what to do - he wasn’t the one carrying an 8lb baby around in all summer.
“you nearly ready, baby?!” you called from your room, trying your best to look acceptable for today’s outing. you couldn’t remember the last time you’d done your makeup and styled your hair so neatly, baby dias was really kicking your butt that you hardly had any energy after a shower, let alone doing your makeup and hair.
you really needed them out so you could go back to your old self.
you didn’t remember pregnancy being this hard with eli. with him, you were able to get through the rest of school with him growing in your belly! taking notes and listening in class. sure, you had sickness and a sore back but that was really only at the start and at the end. given, you were younger and full of energy.
eli came along in the last of your teen years but you wouldn’t change anything for the world, same with rúben. he blamed that baby boy for being the reason he pushed himself so hard to get where he was today. he was such an easy pregnancy, and an easy kid.
being honest, you felt more unprepared for this new baby as a grown adult than you did as a teenager back in 2016.
with a few thuds across the landing and a solid jump at your bedroom door, you turned to see your 8-year-old all ready holding two thumbs up. with a man city kit on and trainers, he looked like rúben more than ever. seriously, if you got a photo of rúben back then, it was like looking at eli with a slightly different haircut. it scared you so much. “ready!”
traffic was always bad no matter what time you left, but you got there in one piece and already left eli with one of your closest friends and bernardo’s wife, ines, while you had to run to the bathroom even after such a short journey. jeans were longgg out of the equation so you’d gone with some loose, white trousers to go with the blue football shirt, hoping they didn’t wrinkle too much but still looked good with the outfit. “you are glowing!”
“no, it’s probably just my highlighter,” you pointed to your cheekbone as ines laughed cheerfully.
“no! you look amazing, what are you talking about?! i have missed you!” she couldn’t help but hug you again. “you’re ready to pop!”
she felt your bump and you huffed a sigh, pulling your sunglasses down, “i know, it feels like it.”
you didn’t really like being out this far along, not because you were afraid, but you were at that stage were you were starting to feel gross. like, you looked like a whale no matter what you wore or styled yourself to look like. realistically – you were one of the most beautiful pregnant women the internet had saw. truly, you may have felt like an elephant, but you were still posted on WAG accounts, getting shared by millions of women who begged they could only look as good as you when pregnant or better - envied you for still looking so hot while suffering the struggles of pregnancy.
how?! 😭❤️
life’s not fair!!!! 😫
what’s her secret?!!! 😍😭🙏🏼
but you could have gotten a thousand comments like that . . but all it took was the one bad one.
fucking hell, keep her inside 😂🫣
who is that??
🤣🤣🤣🤮🤮
a lot of the time you didn’t care because you knew how the internet worked, and you know the majority were sad-little-pathetic-football-fan men. they barely impacted you.
when it was women on the other hand . . .
“i just can’t believe one woman would say that to another woman,” you tilted your phone to show ines the replies. “what happened to the whole ‘girls help girls?’” you had to put your phone down before you ended up on a gossip page for arguing with people in your comment section.
“it’s always down to jealousy, babe. they hate you ‘cause they ain’t you,” she pointed, the same thing you had told her when she got her first negative comment, and you smiled at her attempt of making you feel better. she was such a good friend.
the internet was a weird place. your life was a weird place, you didn’t think there’d be a day people hated you for simply being with a person. you found it weird paparazzi followed you around when rúben was the famous one. you found it weird there were accounts dedicated to you when you didn’t do anything. it caught you off seeing people notice every little thing about you or knew things you forgot you’d explained. it did add a little bit of pressure knowing you were being watched and most likely compared to other beautiful WAGS. you’d be lying if you didn’t say you’d put on makeup in fear you’d be posted all over those news articles and WAG accounts.
you forgot how stressed matches made you until kickoff, two minutes in and already overthinking how this would go down. rúben had your heart fluttering nontheless with how he ran up and down the pitch, giving orders all sweaty and even repping the captain band for a bit. it made you feel real good about your baby daddy.
“come on, pa!” your son would shout when a bit of a ruffle would occur, his father speaking passionately to the ref with frustrating hand movements.
the halftime whistle blew and you let out a breath, fanning yourself as your body relaxed for a small moment. 0-0. “ma, i need to go to the bathroom.”
“me too, let’s go!”
perks of dating a footballer? renting out their own box for friends and family - including the private bathroom. no queues around hereee.
walking through the rows and steps, you couldn’t help but feel eyes pinned to you. ines would tell you because you’re a WAG of a player (you regret ever educating her on that term) but really you felt like it was because you looked like a whale making her way through the stands.
eli convinced you to do a lap of the stadium just once to ‘stretch your legs’ when really it was something he always liked to do as he believed it ‘made halftime pass quicker’. so hobbling around with few staff members recognising the kid (or rather seeing the clear evidence he was a mini rúben) , you strolled around the packed building, trying to squeeze past football fans, getting stopped once for a picture.
“thank you so much!”
“no worries at all,” you waved to the two girls, shooting them your kindest smile. they were so lovely, and even complimented you for ‘pulling off pregnancy so well’.
“you’re sLayiNg” eli mocked them, taking your hand.
“shut up,” you tutted. you appreciated being told you were still slaying.
“matt!”
the 8-year-old suddenly bolted to a familair security guard in a neon vest who was delighted to see the boy. “my man!”
you didn’t bother rushing over, you were out of breath as it was and decided to just lean on the wall while elias got his quick catch up, waving at matt instead. halftime was almost over. you should be heading back now.
“—not the best one though.”
“—no, sasha is definitely the best wag.”
i swear, the word ‘wag’ triggers you like nothing else.
you tried not to look around, but to your left, you could make out two bodies mingling with each other. both wearing light blue tops with stylish jeans and trainers, the two girls waiting outside the bathroom, trying to talk quietly between then in a mumbled manner.
you were a mum - you had mastered your hearing to hear the grass grow.
“–but sasha’s not pregnant?”
“–but if she was, she’d have a cute bump, not . . ”
their silence had you believe they’d glance in your direction, and it took every bone in your body not to stare dead on at them with a smile to let them know you heard every word - but you didn’t. you played oblivious and stayed watching eli, a forced sweet smile on your lips.
“–foden’s girl always has a cute little bump too!”
“–oh my god, yes. she’s stunning.”
“–he’s stunning too, to be fair.”
“eli, come on son!” you wanted to bang your head on the wall not wanting to endure the conversation anymore. now you’d tune in, you couldn’t tune out.
“–ok. bye matt! see you later,” he didn’t waste a second to return to you. “see you soon, buddy!”
you waved at matt and led him through the crowds, not meaning to hold his hand so tight until he pointed it out. “ow, ma, you’re hurting me.”
“sorry baby.” you didn’t sound sorry but you felt utterly hot and bothered. and not in the good way.
for some unreasonable reason, a small line of carts drove through the halls, and you stood against the wall as they passed by, holding your son by his shoulders. you could hear a small utter of whispers from your side but refused to turn your head. you really needed to fucking sit down.
“—dias’ girl! look at the size of her!”
“–rob that’s so mean! she’s pregnant!”
“WOW!” eli stole your attention as he almost stepped out in front of a last minute one zooming by. you smiled, and quickly manoeuvred him on your way.
“keep going, keep going,” you shuffled behind him in the stands, but stopped amidst a waiting line as someone caused hassle. your foot kicked something. “oh i’m so sorry!”
you accidentally tapped your foot to a lady’s handbag, but she smiled and waved you off. “you’re alright, don’t worry!” shortly adding, “i’m not surprised!” glancing to your belly.
it wasn’t malicious, but it was about to be the last straw of some floodgates. “ha! i know . . I’m like a whale.”
“how far along are you?” her friend asked.
“about 7-8 months,” you smiled sweetly, ignoring the fact they didn’t assure you that you didn’t look like a whale. thanks.
“oh wow!”
“i know,” you fake laughed. why wasn’t this line moving?
“is it twins or just the one?”
you tried to stop your eye twitching. who in the right kind said that?! was that . . a backhanded compliment?! what that even a compliment?! or was she genuinely asking in a stupid and nosey manner? “no, but it feels like it,” you fake laughed, and they did too. twats.
“oh my! you’re so big!”
“he or she will be a big boy or girl,” the other corrected with her pint in hand, knowing her friend’s words had just flown out of her mouth.
“yeah . .” you were done with this conversation but you didn’t dare be rude. thankfully, the line moved, and they waved goodbye. “congratulations!”
“thank you!” you replied, turning back around, mouthing absolute knobheads.
“mum, i don’t think you’re a whale,” eli’s hand patted your own that rested on his shoulder, bringing you back down to earth.
your heart thumped and although he didn’t look at you, your heart melted to a puddle as you squeezed his shoulders and ruffled his hair, knowing you’d embarrass him with a kiss. “thank you baby. you’re always to sweet to me.”
and he was. you actually . . wanted to cry. shock.
“hey!” ines greeted. “where’d you guys go?”
you only shook your head and nodded to you son who was standing again, ready and recharged for more yelling. you felt ines squeeze your hand and you looked at her, “are you ok? you look . .”
“yeah, i’m fine,” you dabbed your eyes and put your sunglasses back on. “just . . stupid stuff, and then e said something really sweet and i just,” you held your heart which made her laugh and reassure her for the time being. “ok, but . . you can tell me, y’know?”
“just being emotional,” you said the obvious, making her laugh as you leaned into her for support.
you would tell her later, but right now, you were going to use the rest of the game as your excuse to start screaming.
-
the game ended on a win. you saw rúben briefly when the players walked around and applauded, and eli mirrored his excitement and happiness, waving and calling to him as he spotted you guys. he was ecstatic you could make it.
it was after 6 by the time you got home and settled. you were about to order food when you second guess your options, today’s events replaying in your mind:
look at the size of her!
sasha would have a cute bump.
you’re so big!
you knew you were pregnant but there were far nicer things to say to a pregnant lady. what a bunch of assholes.
instead, you cooked some carbs up for eli and made yourself a seperate dinner, feeling the need to watch what you were eating now - you’d be giving birth soon and all those pregnancy cravings didn’t just leave when the baby came. you weren’t silly - you weren’t going to deprive yourself of food, but maybe they had a point - why wasn’t your bump considered cute? was it hard to tell you were pregnant? what were you doing differently?
you were on the verge of calling sasha and asking her what she put in her green smoothies when the door opened.
“meu amor?”
“in here champ,”
something rúben didn’t expect to see what you lying on the couch with a salad balanced on your bump, and you munching away like it was a 5-star dish. “what’s this about . . ?” he smiled sceptically, dropping his bag to the floor.
“what’s what?”
“that.” he nodded to your plate.
you shrugged. “took a notion for it.”
“for . . a salad?” he clarified, looking down at you, entertained in some sense.
your craving for the last 5 months had been anything with chocolate frosting on it. rúben had watched you talk yourself out of buying a tub of it on its own because you knew if was weird and would have to bake go use it.
“yeah.”
to be fair, the salad was tasty, and you were enjoying it but . . at 7 months pregnant? rúben tilted his head. “where’s eli?”
“is his room.”
“he had salad too?”
“he had pasta and garlic bread.”
now he knew something was up. you? not eating garlic bread? italian in general?
someone had said something to you.
he looked at you concerningly, but he was too afraid to ruin the peaceful moment. you seemed calm. he had won a game and you were in a good mood today. baby boy or girl mustn’t be giving you too much trouble so that was a win in itself. so he just leaned down and kissed you lovingly. “hi.”
“hi,” you smiled, pecking him three more times before he rose again. “well done today.”
“thank you,” his hand touched your belly for about two seconds before you swept it off smoothly with your own, squeezing it instead. you smiled up at him again, “love you.”
he kissed you again trying to hide his confusion – but something was up. you were being odd. “love you too.”
and he left and headed for eli’s room, leaving you to let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding before slouching again and continuing with your dinner.
-
the rest of that evening, rúben was correct. you weren’t yourself.
your mind was somewhere else, and your head wasn’t out of your phone. constantly scrolling, you had overanalysed every picture captured of you today and tried not to nitpick. reading comments. comparing yourself. he wondered what you were doing.
but everyone else did have small bumps. everyone’s looked so cute. they didn’t use pregnancy as an excuse to eat whatever they wanted or slack with self-care. they still wore tight clothing. they still looked gorgeous. you began to compare yourself to all these other wives and girlfriends on the page, wondering how on earth they looked that good.
ummmm, ‘cause maybe they’re 12 weeks along and you’re triple that?
the next morning, rúben kissed you in the kitchen before leaving. “what’s that?”
“what?”
“that,” he nodded to the drink in your hand.
“a smoothie?”
“for breakfast?”
“well yeah,” you furrowed your brows, and he immediately shook his head, pulling that judgemental, disapproving look you sometimes wanted to punch. “no, no, come on, don’t be silly, now,” he almost laughed, “you need to eat something proper.”
“it’s a smoothie, it has everything i need in it?”
“y/n, make something to eat. you’re almost 8 months pregnant for crying out loud,” he looked at you seriously. he didn’t want to sound like he was scolding you or making you feel stupid but you knew he was worried about the lack.
overprotective rúben had always been a constant in your relationship but when you were pregnant — phew, “you got my baby in there.”
“–and he or she is looked after, it’s a healthy drink—”
he took it from your hand and kissed your cheek in the process, taking it with him to training with a smirk, “stop being lazy and cook.”
you were furious. you were actually annoyed that he had taken the drink himself and didn’t find it funny. he kissed eli’s head and the door closed, and you were left highly irritated.
you couldn’t see eli shrink, but he did, looking wide-eyed at the table as he considered his dad a brave brave man in that moment to do that to you - considering the look of your face.
and as a pregnant woman with her emotional struggling to stay in check - you lost it as they all blended together once eli was dropped off at school, sitting in a car park of a café you regretted going too now that you sat with your decaf latte and triple-choc muffin. the frustration quickly turned to tears as you had a moment, eyes in your hands, thinking over everything the last couple days.
yes you were pregnant, but was there a need to be that big? were you even that big compared to others? were you really that bad to look at? that unflattering? did it even looking like you were pregnant? the loose clothing probably didn’t help, but who wanted to wear tight clothing? pregnancy was hard - it was hard to glamourise it all the time!
you’d never cried over looking bad the first time you were pregnant, maybe once or twice when a pair of jeans didn’t fit or you couldn’t reach your shoelaces, but never over the way you felt about yourself. you actually were starting to feel disgusting, and it was embarrassing because you let randomers make you feel this way!
. . and then the pathetic-ness turned into anger because why were people such assholes?! how can they not keep an opinion to themselves?! making you feel bad about your baby!
. . and then the anger turned to guilt because your sweet little baby was just trying to grow and be healthy and you were upset over it. tears again.
you didn’t know how to fix it. the damage was already done, you had a month left, there was no going back now with salads and smoothies, you yanked your paper bag with your muffin off the floor, eating your money’s worth. rúben subconsciously popped into your head as he was probably eating some fruit salad or nutritious sandwich at this time.
oh rúben. you wished he was here but you also knew you wouldn’t want him near you at the minute, not when you weren’t feeling yourself and you had people in your comments telling you he was on his way of replacing you.
he would call you stupid, but rúben just wouldn’t understand. he wouldn’t get being on the other side, the built in competition that automatically comes with being a woman, more than ever with this lifestyle he had given you. one where you’re compared left right and centre with a certain standard to achieve.
you bet every handbag you owned, he’d screw his face up and go ‘are you serious’ if you told him your issue. he knew you were above anyone commenting stupid things on your posts and found it immature of you in a way if you did take those things to heart - i mean they were nobodies! jealous nobodies! but that’s easy for him to say, his comments are flooded with never ending support, guys praising him for his talent, physique and hard work and most girls telling him to hurry up and leave you. spamming with flame and tongue emojis, thirsting over your man just the way you did, only boosting his ego more which rúben did not need.
so you just felt silly, and picked at your muffin, accepting your were going to be a whale wag.
you felt like a slob when you got back home, staying on the couch after cleaning, and then crying except you were watching a movie to blame it on that.
you still couldn’t get comments out of your head, i mean what was an ‘expired wag?!’ or a ‘busted oven?!’ what did that mean? and why always the skull emojis?!
scrolling once again through photos of comparison, you scrolled onto a beautiful pic of your beautiful bestie, ines, and straight away phoned her. “hey.”
“hey! what’s up! what’s going on? why do you sound you out of breath?”
“why do you think?” you laughed.
“girl are you crying again?!”
and you started talking. you had to get things off your chest and you needed ines to make you feel better, to assure you and let you rant, and she happily did, after all, you’d always been there when she was having a moment.
“–what did rúben say?”
“nothing, i haven’t told him anything. he’ll just tell me i’m being ridiculous.”
“he won’t!”
“ines, he would, he’s not like bernardo. rúben’s harsh!”
“so are you! which is why i can’t believe you’re still crying over this!”
he was harsh in the good way, in the same way you were. you were both practical. real. realistic. you picked each other up and told each off when you were being ridiculous. pulled each other out their asses. brought you back down to earth.
but you just needed comforted at this current moment by your girl.
as you continued to chat and laugh more than you thought, the front door opened without your acknowledgment and rubes stepped through. freshly showered after a long morning of training, he instantly heard your voice rambling over the phone. he took notice of the tissue also crumpled on the floor by the door (you’d been carelessly tossing them for dramatic effect) and paused after he thought he’d heard a sad sniffle. he closed the door quietly and crept near the living room.
“i can’t help it, i do just feel . . blegh,” you felt like you were being ridiculous but you couldn’t help it. “like, why does everyone keep making a big fuss about it? am i really that massively huge or am i just not liked?”
he heard another woman’s laughter on your phone and recognised her as soon as she began talking to you, “y/n, i promise no one is making a fuss of it, it probably just seems in your face all the time because you keep going back to check. i promise the world is not broadcasting you,” ines chuckled sweetly, which followed your sad laugh also.
“well the wag world does!”
“y/n!” she laughed, “you’re overthinking it. i promise you have nothing to worry about. the only person who’s opinion should matter to you is rúben’s and everybody knows he has you on a pedestal!” rúben found himself smiling. he’d always been a fan of ines. “he’s called you his wife since you came to manchester! he’s always been proud to show you off, you look good - you look amazing! people are just saying that stuff about you to make themselves feel better.”
“mm, i guess,” you sniffed, holding your forehead. “i don’t know, it’s just been getting to me . . and i’m not saying to rúben because he’ll tell me i’m being stupid. i wouldn’t be surprised if he was leaving an hour earlier in the mornings to get away from me. it’s not like my looks can make up for my psycho-ness anymore,” you joked.
“y/n!” she tried not to laugh. “though, pregnancy psycho-ness is definitely real.”
it is, rúben mentally agreed also, though his heart still sank further as he heard you talk about yourself in such ways. he didn’t want to call you ridiculous but come on, you were pregnant! didn’t they all count as compliments to a pregnant lady?!
“it is,” you let out a sigh, “i wouldn’t want to be around me either, just this big angry rhino walking around the house,” you laughed together, “he goes to a paris event on friday anyway, he’ll get a break and have plenty of french models to—”
a clear of a throat had you whipping your head to the door, seeing rúben’s hard stare. your mouth went dry. “uhhh, ines i’ll call you back.”
you felt bad hanging up as she was speaking back, too shocked you’d been heard rambling for the last couple minutes. or probably longer! how long had he been standing there?!
“listen—”
“french models?! french models, y/n.”
“rúben, it’s not in context—”
“oh i heard the context, i heard everything,” he came in the room, not one spot of happiness found on his face. he was fuming. you could tell, and disappointed too, you felt like eli getting told off by him, throwing yourself back into the couch as he stood with that gruff, intimidating look, hands shoved in his pockets.
“you don’t get it—” you could already feel the tears welling in your eyes, though a pit of frustration was brewing in your chest hot and fast. this was going one of two ways.
“what don’t i get? you don’t tell me what’s wrong when i ask you!”
“‘cause you wouldn’t understand!”
“ok but what i do understand is my wife accusing me of what? getting to pick which ‘french model’ i want to take home next week?”
now your face fell flat, realising how ridiculous and cruel that sounded. you shouldn’t accuse him of that kind of stuff.
“rubes, i just—” your mouth felt dry again. tears brimming again, you could feel how hot they were. the words were on the tip of your tongue but you didn’t know how they were gonna come out.
“what is it? tell me,” he pushed, eager for you to actually get out what you wanted to say so he could help sort it. “i’m here to listen.”
and you did, you unleashed it all. “people are assholes. your fans are assholes. i’m sorry but i cannot believe the stuff people have no issue saying to other people - pregnant people at that! as if the 9 months aren’t hard enough, i have this mob of men and women on my back, judging and critiquing my every outting. i can’t do it anymore, it’s actually ruining whatever self-confidence i have left!” the tears were streaming as you began your rant, choking down sobs as you moved your hands, a fury behind all the sadness.
rúben crouched down, wanting to be nearer as you let it all out. “every day, every hour, i have someone online, reminding me off how big i am, how unflattering my paparazzi pic is, how whale-like i am! how hard it’s gonna be to shift this baby weight! i’m getting put in competition with every other pregnant wife and girlfriend of your teammate and showed how much better they pull it off! how gorgeous they look all the time! how their bumps are ‘cute’ and small and ‘suits them.’ i heard it myself at your game the other day! it’s like they’ve never seen an un-photoshopped pregnant woman before!” you met his eyes, realising you were probably being silly and that there were bigger problems in the world. “i just feel disgusting, rúben. i never felt like this with eli, i was in this perfect little bubble but this time so different. i don’t want to leave the house when i know a monstrosity of photos are getting taken of me, pointing out every flaw. i don’t have a cute, small bump! i do look like a whale! i can’t dress sexy! and i get what people are saying when they say it’ll be a bit before you can look at me again ‘cause god knows—”
“shh,” he quickly silenced you, placing a finger to your lips. his brows were furrowed as yours did, fed up of hearing you ramble about all the bad things about yourself. he felt pain in a way. he just couldn’t believe you actually thought these things about yourself. “wha— . . . are you being serious?”
“OH MY GOD!” you threw your arms up. see!
“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, meu amor,” his big hands softly caressed your legs in front of him, along your smooth thighs to stop you from exploding again, “i’m sorry. it’s just . . i . . it annoys me that you let these things get to you, these random, strange people that you don’t even know. you take their opinion over mine. so mine doesn’t matter, it doesn’t count?” he looked you deeply in the eye, “how does that make sense? explain that to me.”
your head hit the cushion as you groaned but rúben held your hands comfortingly. he didn’t want to make you feel stupid, but he wanted to hear your thought process. “to me, it’s like . . you have the choice of walking into a room full of all these people who hate you, and you know the hate you, after being in one full of people you love . . and you go into the hateful one and are surprised that all these people are saying all these bad things about you when you could have just left it alone and focused on the lovely ones - from people who matter to you! who are actually in your life! do you understand?”
you nodded along, entranced by his eyes and how they were able to ground you alone. “you know that i think you’re the best thing in the world. you know i would love you if—” he thought off the top of his head, “you had 10 extra toes. a third eye. if you had a cow nose. elf ears!” your hair slipped silkily through his fingers, “you know i think you’re the most beautiful woman ever even dressed in a trash bag. i would still love you if you did wear trash bags. if you had a cow nose. if you weighed the same as a cow. if you weighed the same as a baby cow,” you broke a chuckle at that. “i’ve loved you through our ugly teen years, when i shaved my hair and your eyebrows were stick thin,” you laughed more as he let out a breath of relief, “i loved you when with vomit down your shirt and your hair dyed that weird colour—”
“rúbennn . .”
“what? and i loved you when you had eli in your stomach, and he was big baby,” his hand touched your belly, moving it in the same motion he always did because that’s when he got to feel the small kicks of this baby dias. “i loved you even more even when i saw how he came out,” he shot you a wildered look.
you facepalmed, dragging your hand down dreadfully at the thought of having to relive that moment all over again in over a months time.
his features turned as his thoughts turned sour, “why are you letting stupid fucking people affect you?”
“i don’t know . . i guess ‘cause so many people are saying it i . . it must be true to some extent—”
“y/n—”
“seriously, rúben. i don’t have a cute, small bump. ines and rebecca are always such sweet—”
“Y/N! have you SEEN the size of bernardo and phil next to me! is it any wonder they’re small! their child comes out the same size as them!” his hand shot out with passion.
now your head was in your hand with muffled laughter, caught off guard by his statement. “seriously! seriously, now you’re supposed to be the smart one,” he tried to look at you, that loving smile shining your way as his heart sang at the sound of you laughter. “you’re shocked that me, that we, have big babies . . that ines has a much smaller bump than you . . are you serious? that rebecca has a smaller bump than you? rebecca, phil and elway stacked on top of each other wouldn’t even reach the height of me!”
“rúben,” you laughed, feeling an actual blush of embarrassment coat your face at how stupid he’d made you feel, but in a good way.
he was so right. what were you thinking?
“i’m like, the biggest guy on the team! sorry i didn’t realise that was gonna be a problem for you,” you lightly hit his shoulder to wrap up the sarcasm, still giggling. he looked at you from the floor, his hands still on you, on your leg on bump — the bump that he did make look small next to his hand. “and please remember you’re a month away from giving birth, you’re supposed to be a healthy size. and i been going to training an hour earlier ‘cause i know when this one comes along, i’ll not want to go as much and i’ll want to stay with you both. i’ll start working on my dad bod . .” he felt the small, subtle movement happening inside, but he could feel them if he kept still enough.
“you’d look good with both.” you rolled your eyes.
“and you’d still look better. y/n, you’re not a whale. please stop saying that,” he finally crept to his feet, climbing on the couch on top of you, leaning his arm behind your head. “you are the most beautiful-est woman to me and no-one, NO-ONE can convince me otherwise. you’re my standard of perfect, of gorgeous and sexy and all the rest of it. i’ve found you sexy before this baby, during this baby, and after this baby — i still get comments of people telling me how ugly i look when you’re next to me! you bring my value down!”
his arm wrapped around your neck while the other threw itself over your bump, shifting and snuggling into the sofa more comfortingly, you relaxed alongside him, the tears no trickling down but with good reason behind them as you were shocked to find your love growing even more for rúben when you thought it was impossible. “i don’t know what comments you’re seeing because all i see are the ones calling you a milf, and it takes too much time to try and report them all.”
you held his hand at your shoulder, his lips kissing your cheek repeatedly, over and over again. you knew how much he loved you. “yeah, you’re right. fans are just . . assholes.”
“fans are assholes,” he agreed, stroking your cheekbone, “. . don’t listen to them. you think i listen to everything they say about me?” he perked a brow.
sometimes! you wanted to say but knew better. it was rhetorical question, and you knew his sweet intentions.
“alright? i don’t so why should you? you’re hot stuff babe,” he looked at the side of your face, inspecting every little freckle and faint scar, he just wanted to never stop kissing you. “i love you the way you are. eli loves you for the way you are, and this baby,” he rubbed circles on your belly, “he or she is going to be so unbelievably lucky when they see who they have as their mam. i know it’s not the smallest bump but i think it’s the cutest i’ve ever saw, with my baby girl or boy in there,” he kissed the size of your stomach. he grew more and more excited each day as he got a day closer to meeting who was inside. he couldn’t wait. “. . who they get their good looks from and skill and personality - well, i mean i would like to take some credit for the both of those ‘cause i mean their daddy is pretty c—”
you playfully jabbed his side, making him laugh. “yeah, he’s the hottest one on the field,” you glanced at him, kissing his cheek.
one thing about him, he’d always blessed you with beautiful children.
“yeah, and their mum is coolest one at the school pick up,” his lips trailed along your cheek to your jaw, the slight scruff of his beard tickling you. “you’re the biggest milf to walk the planet–”
“rúbennn,” you chuckled, blushing at his words whilst trying to push him away.
“i’m serious,” he proceeded, peppering kissed down your neck, “and she’s coming to paris with me for the weekend so she can outshine me like she does at every event she comes to.”
you laughed at that, smiling dreamily as he proceeding to love on you.
“and eli?”
“elias gets to stay with his favourite uncle who owes a favour,” he winked.
“hmm. ok.”
“and i’ll give her a reason to cry if she starts thinking like that again,” he whispered in your ear.
your heart slipped a beat. “oh yeah?”
“ohh yeahhh,” he nodded, standing to his feet, not before a loud ‘smack’ echoed the room as he mimicked what your poor backside would get if you kept up that kind of behaviour. “see you upstairs, mama.”
you blew your hair from your face, heart thumping, your hands slowly crept up to your adorable little bump where you caressed it gently as he headed for upstairs, whispering softly, “you are soo lucky he’s your papai.”
your heart raced as he peeled his hoodie off, back muscles staring right at you as he headed for your room, you felt your insides begin to sizzle.
— but you were even luckier he was your husband.
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hiya do your write for ruben dias ? 🫶🥰
Yes
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libraryofloveletters · 9 months ago
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Helping Hands
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Ruben Dias x Fem!Reader
Warnings: ruben and reader have a kid! (he's 5), boy dad!ruben, most of the man city squad is in this (kalvin too even tho he's not here anymore lol), mr pep makes an appearance, birthday surprises (yes I know ruben's birthday isn't until may lol), sweetness all around, reader and the guys have a good relationship, one big family vibes.
Word Count: 1.9k
Author's Note: is it really a big shock that this one is for @themandaloriansdiaries - I only ever write ruben when she asks lmaooo.
--
"Mama! Come on!" Chris, your son, tugged on your hand as you carried the bags.
Ruben's birthday was today and the two of you had gotten up to wish him happy birthday before he left, even making sure to make birthday pancakes - Chris's request, despite it being his father's birthday.
Your husband had gone in for training today and he wasn't aware that the two of you were coming with a special surprise for him. Once you're checked in at the front, Chris makes a beeline for the stairs, running up and straight to the office of none other than Pep.
You didn't get a chance to stop him before he opened the door, not bothering to knock as he knew he had Mr. Pep - his nickname for the man- wrapped around his finger.
"Chris!" The man smiled when he saw the little brown-haired boy running into his office. He picks him up, giving him a good squeeze before putting him down.
"Hi Mr. Pep! Do you have any candy?" The boy looks around, peeking into a bowl on the desk. "Check the drawer, kid." He retells him, walking over to hug you hello.
Chris had made himself comfortable in Pep's chair, munching on a Kit Kat while spinning around.
Pep's hand rests on your arm, smiling at you. "What brings you two in today?"
"Just setting up a few things for Ruben's birthday. Chris wanted to celebrate with him and the guys."
"Oh," Pep nods. "Do you need help? Do you want me to get some of the stuff to help you?"
"No no, that's okay. Don't disturb them, it's just hanging up a few balloons and a banner Chris made, we got it. Right buddy?"
Chris nods, giving you a thumbs up with sticky, chocolate covered fingers.
Pep laughs, walking over to wipe Chris's hands with a tissue. "Okay, let me know if you need anything."
You and Chris were off to the cafeteria, taking the long way around as you knew Ruben would be in the gym right now. Chris sits himself down by the window, looking out in the pitch as you unpack the stuff from the bags, passing the balloons to him to start blowing them up; it would keep him occupied for long enough that you could set up whatever else you needed too.
As you tried to unravel the banner Chris was making at home, you heard footsteps behind you and Chris got up, running over to whoever was over there. You turn to see John, balancing the cake in one hand and rubbing Chris's brown hair with the other hand.
"Hi uncle Johnny!" Chris smiled at the man, John smiled back at him. "Hi buddy, how are you?"
"Good! It's daddy's birthday today!"
John nods, "I know, I got the cake, see?" He bends down to show Chris the cake before taking it into the kitchen to put it in the fridge so it doesn't melt.
"Thank you for picking it up," you tell him when he comes back, Chris holding his hand and bringing him over to the table where he was sitting.
"Anytime."
"Help me blow up balloons, uncle Johnny!" Chris passes him a handful of balloons, sitting on his chair as he starts on his own.
Despite having to get to the gym, John sat with Chris and blew up all of the balloons. For every 6 balloons John blew up, Chris blew one. The boy passed the slobbered covered balloon to his uncle who happily tied it; even if he had to wipe his fingers off on his pants after each one.
Once they're done, John gets up. "I have to get to training, buddy. I'll be back at lunch time and I'll bring your dad with me, okay?"
"Okay!" Chris gave John a five high before turning his attention back to the balloons. You wave John off as you start to attempt to bundle the balloons together.
"Baby, why don't you finish up on your banner for daddy? The crayons are in the green bag over there." You nod towards the bag on the chair, Chris nods and walks over to get the crayons before sitting where you had spread out the banner.
You managed to get a few balloons bundled together before you started on the arch, your back was turned to the doorway and you hadn't heard anyone come in.
Kyle had seen Chris about to get up and signalled for him to stay sitting and to be quiet, pointing to you and motioning surprise with his hands. Chris got the just of it and nodded, his little hand covering his mouth to stop him from giggling.
The cold fingers pinch your shoulders, causing you to jump. "What the f- fudge!" You stopped mid swear, shouting before turning to see who it was. Both Kyle and Chris were giggling now, you smacked Kyle on the head with a balloon.
"You're so annoying, Kyle." Groaning, you turn your attention back to the balloon arch you were assembling. The man ignores your comment, making his way over to Chris at the table.
His arms on either side of Chris's chair as he stands behind him, his chin on the boy's head. "Whatcha working on, bud?"
"A banner for daddy! Look how cool my football is," he points towards the football he had drawn in the corner.
"That's really good, I couldn't even draw a circle." He laughed. "Who are these guys?" Kyle asks him, pointing out the few guys Chris had drawn around the ball.
"Well this one is Eddie," he points to the man by the net, wearing bright green. "This one is daddy, uncle Jack, uncle Johnny and this one is you, uncle walks." He points to the one on the left.
Kyle stifles a laugh. "Chris, why is my head so big?"
"Because mama said you have a big head." Chris shrugs, going back to working on his drawings.
The man looks over at you with a raised eyebrow, and you shrug just as Chris did. "It's true, now come be useful and hold this." You stuck the end of the arch out to Kyle, the man coming over to hold it as you filled in the extra balloons that needed to fit in.
He helps you get it up and over the window, along with the streamers before you thank him and climb down from the chair. When you turned around, you found more of the guys had come in as it was pretty close to lunch time.
Jack was sitting with Chris, the two of them chatting about some cartoon they both watch when Jack comes over while Kalvin helped to colour in the letters that Chris had traced.
Everything was coming together, all that needed to be done was put the banner up and get the cake out from the fridge. Erling had come in with Kevin and Kevin offered himself to get the cake as he knew Erling and Jack would probably start bickering about something as soon as he saw the taller man make a bee line for his friend.
Ederson and Stefan were the next two that came in. Erling and Stefan hung the banner up, Jack handing pieces of tape to Chris to stick on the banner. Ederson had Chris up on his shoulders so he could reach it and Rodri gave them thumbs up of approval, letting them know that the banner was hung straight.
Kevin sets the cake on the table, taking it out of the box while you search for the candles in the bag. "Oh crap, I forgot the candles at home."
"I think we have some from John and Kyle's birthday last week," Nathan tells you, walking over to the cabinet to search for them. He returns a moment later with a half pack of candles and a lighter.
Chris helps Nathan stick the candles into the cake; all 27 which is how old he was turning this year.
Everything was set, the rest of the players had come in and even pep had made his way down for the little celebration. All of you were by the window, waiting until you heard someone coming to light the candles.
The big banner above you read happy birthday daddy! in several different coloured crayons, all coloured in and out of the lines - depended on who coloured it.
You look at Chris, fixing his shirt as Ederson held him and you made sure he looked okay. You brushed away the cookie crumbs from earlier before looking around to make sure everyone was there. Jack, who was beside you, also had the same cookie crumbs on his shirt and you brushed those off too.
The sound of John's laughter came from the hallway, followed by the clicking of Bernardo's slides as he never wore them properly. That meant Ruben would be right behind them.
"What are you recording for?" You hear your husband's voice, one of his friend's had their phone out as they were coming in.
Bernardo and John push the double doors open, John stepping into the room to catch Ruben's reaction.
"Surprise!" Everyone shouts, the boys cheering, clapping and whistling for their friend.
Ruben stood there shocked, taking it all in. The handmade banner, streamers, balloons, the cake, all his teammates and most importantly, his wife and his son.
Ederson put Chris down, the little boy running to his dad who picks him up. "Do you like it?!" Chris practically shouts in his dad's ear. Ruben chuckles, nodding. "I love it, Chris. Thank you."
He gives him a hug, putting him down. "Do you like the banner? And the colours I picked?"
"You used all my favourites." He ruffles Chris's fluffy brown hair, identical to his own. Chris clapped, grinning at his father as he ran over to Jack. "Told you!" You hear Chris tell Jack, the two of them laughing.
You walk over to your husband, hugging him. "Surprise, baby."
Ruben kisses your head, "thank you, babe. You didn't have to do all this, you know."
"I know," you say. "I had some help." You nodded towards his teammates behind you.
Ruben leans down to kiss you, his hand on your jaw as he does. "Okay okay, break it up." Kevin calls for you two, "the candles are gonna melt."
You hold Ruben's hand, bringing him over to the table with the cake, Chris standing on the chair on the left to his dad and you're tucked under Ruben's arm on the right. All of his teammates on the other side of the table, John was still recording as Jack started the horribly off key rendition of happy birthday, which was being sung in at least 5 different languages at the moment.
Ruben pulls you and Chris with him, blowing out all 27 candles on the cake. "Happy birthday, babe." You kisses his cheek, Chris swiping some frosting and rubbing it on the other side of his dad's face.
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melanieph321 · 4 months ago
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I have an idea but it's set in an alternate universe :
Ruben is a personal trainer and he helps training reader because she has a health issue and gym/training is one of the ways to overcome her issue. I don't have anything in my mind right now regarding the health issue so it's up to you to develop that part 😁
What a lovely way to end these seven days of requests. Thank you ❤️
SEVEN DAYS OF REQUESTS 3.0
(DAY 7)
Ruben Dias x Reader - Made of Glass
+18
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Enjoy!
"One more, you can do it!"
"I can't do it Ruben."
"Yes you can. Come on Y/N, one more step."
"No, Ruben. You're pushing me too hard."
"Y/N, it's just one step. You can do it."
He was right about that. You put everything into taking that one step. Your last step before your legs buckled beneath you. Fortunately, Ruben was the to catch you. He was always there to catch you when you fell.
"Fuck." You winced as your hands touched the floor. Ruben caught you just in time with his arm around your stomach. However, he did not prevent you from scrubbing your knees.
"Are you okay?" Ruben picked you up and carried you over to the nearest bench. You hated when he did that. It reminded you of the times you fell as a child. How your parents would get so anxious to let you outiside and play with your friends, fearing that you would hurt yourself again. However, doctors told you that having fragile bones will come with its challenges in life, and up until today, you have always been able to handle those challenges by yourself.
"I should put a band-aid on that knee. Other than that, everything looks fine."
"Don't bother." You told Ruben, who had gotten up to retrive the gyms' first aid kit.
"Y/N, but you're bleeding?"
"It doesn't matter. I want to go again." You made the effort to stand up. However, your legs quickly retaliated, wobbling beaneath you, making it impossible for you to walk unless supporting yourself. Luckily, you found Ruben's bicep, clinging onto it for dear life.
"That's it, I'm driving you home." Ruben said and did not give you time to protest. You drove home in silence, with Ruben stopping the car right outside of your apartment complex.
"I'm sorry if I pushed you too hard today." He said, shutting off the car engine.
"Isn't that your job?" You chuckled.
"It's what you pay me for, yes. But I tend to forget that you're...."
"Weak." You nodded and looked to your hands.
"Not weak." Ruben sighed. "I was gonna say fragile."
"It's the same thing, Ruben, and you know it."
"It's not."
"Whatever." You cracked open his car door, making the attempt to step out of Ruben's car. However, you quickly realized the effects of today's workout. How it left you more fragile than normal, completely unable to walk.
"I got you." Ruben appeared before you faster than you could comprehend. He did not hesitate to bend down and pick you up in his arms, carrying you inside your apartment building.
"Somedays are worse..." You said. Ruben unlocked your apartment door and carried you to the living room, setting you down on the couch. "But the fatigue will ware off eventually."
Ruben did not look as convinced. It was clear that he refused to leave you alone until he was sure that you were okay. This has only happened once before after one of your sessions and even back then, before the two of you had gotten to know each other, Ruben promised to stay with you as long as you needed him to.
"Here, drink some water." He said, passing you a bottle from your fridge.
"You don't have to do this." You sighed and fell back on the couch after taking a few sips of water. You found the remote and turned on the TV.
"I don't think it's a good idea to wait it out." Ruben said regarding you skeptically as you relaxed on the couch.
"It usually just takes a few minutes." You assured. "I'll be back on my feet in no time."
Ruben still didn't look convinced. "We have to increase the blod circulation in your legs." He said.
"We?"
"Yes, we. I'll help you stretch."
"Oh, boy. Here we go again."
Ruben had already joined you on the couch, massaging the bottom of your feet. All though it felt amazing, all you wished was for Ruben to leave you alone. You were already embarrassed enough, self-conscious about the fact that your clothes still smelled of sweat. Ruben, on the other hand, smelled amazing. Like liquid soap and a dash of aftershave.
"Please, Ruben, this is really not necessary. I don't want to be a burden."
"You're not a burden."
"I know, I just—"
"Y/N." Ruben stiffened, regarding you sternly. "You're not a burden to me, okay? Not to anyone, for that matter."
You heart fluttered. "Ruben I..."
"It doesn't matter." He said. "Just let me take care of you."
"Okay."
You fell back on your couch and let Ruben take care of you. He was obviously everything you wanted in a man. Kind, strong, and handsome. The undisputed three. However, you were quite convinced that a guy like him could never be interested in his opposite, a girl like you.
"Is this okay?" Ruben moved on to message the lower part of your back as you turned over to lay on your stomach. "Y/N, you have to tell me if what I'm doing is okay or not."
"It's okay." You sniffled, having failed to answer him the first time. Ruben stopped what he was doing, a gentle hand on your back. "Y/N?"
"Please, Ruben. I'm fine, really."
"You don't sound fine."
He was right, and you weren't. Your emotions bubbled up, causing unwanted tears to flood your eyes. You tried to hide them by nuzzling your face against the cuchens. Unfortunately, Ruben felt your body shiver. His expression softened as he made you look at him. It was the first time he saw you crying.
"Ruben, I..." You tried to excuse your tears, but Ruben wouldn't let you. His hand on your cheek forced you to look at him as his thumb swiped away your tears. "No one is weak for showing emotions." He said, with a voice so rich and so deep that a part of you wondered if he was getting emotional as well. "You're not weak, Y/N. You're just human."
"A very fragile human." You chuckled. "I'm starting to believe the kids that used to tell me that I was made of glass."
"Well, believe me." Ruben tilted your head, his gaze soft and kind. "You're not made out of glass. The complete opposite. You're made out of resilience and whatever made the stubborn and beautiful woman that you are."
Again, your heart almost escaped your chest, blood rushing in every direction of your body.
"What?" Ruben said, seeing your expression.
"You....you think I'm beautiful?"
Ruben's eyes widened when he realized. "Oh, I....well I....." His cheeks blossmed. "Y/N, I....."
"Yes?"
"I didn't mean to...."
"To?"
He shook his head, snapping out of it. "I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable."
"Uncomfortable, why?"
"Well, I'm not exactly in a good position to...." His hand left your face. So did his other hand on your thigh. "I'm your trainer. It would be highly inappropriate for us to..."
"To?"
"To...you know."
"I do?" You frowned.
He sighed. "Y/N, it would be highly inappropriate for us to engage in anything....sexual."
"But what if I want to?"
"You do?"
You shrugged. "Only if you want to."
He looked tempted. Considering it. However, with furrowed brows, he shook his head. "No. We can't. We can't because of your legs."
"My legs?" You looked down on them and realized that you were able to wag your toes again.
"Their tired Y/N. You're tired from today's workout."
"Right, tired." You brought your knees up to your chin, wrapping your arms around your legs. "Or perhaps you mean fragile?"
Ruben's stiffened. His entire demeanor uncertain. "Y/N, I never meant to hurt...."
"My feelings? Yeah, guys have told me that all my life. Don't worry, I've learned to protect myself from guys like you."
He frowned. "Guys like me?"
"Yes, people who pity others for their disabilities rather than recognizing their abilities and what they can do. Who they truly can become."
"Y/N, there's no doubt in my mind of your abilities. You're stronger than you realize, and It's my job to help you realize that. However, it is not my job to fall in love with my clients, and I'm afraid that I've done just that."
"What?"
Ruben nodded, his hand on your thigh. "Your beautiful Y/N, flaws and all. But you're also stubborn, too stubborn."
"What can I say...." You smiled.  "I know what I want." You pulled his shirt, tugging Ruben towards you. He resisted at first but eventually went down willingly, your lips colliding in a gentle kiss. The kiss lasted as long as you allowed it, with Ruben pushing you down to lay beaneath him on the couch. There, his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing it gently, teasingly. The sounds of your smacking lips filled the living room, dimming the sounds of the TV.
Although Ruben convinced you to be the one to keep it in his pants, it did not take long for his erection to poke you in the stomach, reaveling the size of him.
"I want you." You moaned.
Ruben gritted his teeth, stroking his hips against your thigh. "I want you too, baby. Trust me. But you should really take it easy."
"Fine." You pushed Ruben off of you and came to a rest on your knees. "I should take it easy, but not you." With a hand on his chest, you pushed Ruben down to sit back on the couch. He did so with his legs spread, his erection a visible bulge through his pants.
You slid down onto the floor, getting to work right away, pulling down his shorts, setting his dick free. Ruben groaned as you grabbed onto his large shaft, squeezing it gently in your hand.
"Do you want me to suck it?" You asked, your lips already pressed against its tip.
"Suck it, blow it...do whatever you want, baby." He was eager, so eager that it made you giggle. Nevertheless, placing one hand on his thigh for support, you took him into your mouth, letting the size of him tighten your jaw.
"Fuck....yes." He sighed. Even more so as your head started moving up and down, sucking him clean.
"Yes baby, just like that."
You showed no signs of slowing down. However, with a hand gripping the back of your hair, Ruben slowed the motion, derminating the speed to one he liked. "Just like that baby, nice and slow."
Sometimes, he made you go faster. Praising the way you gagged on it before going slow again, allowing you to recover.
"You're such a good girl baby, such a good girl for me."
His dick was soaked in your saliva, the warmth of his skin caressing the insides of your cheeks. Slowly but surely, you edge him closer to his limits. To a point of breaking.
"Fuck baby, I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna cum so hard for you, please don't stop."
You didn't stop. Instead, you upped the pace, adding on to the friction by using your hands. Ruben's head fell back with pleasure, squinting his eyes as he moaned your name.
"Fuuuuck!"
Ruben sighed with the relief. You backed off and wiped the corners of your mouth as he looked to you in disbelief, slightly impressed. "You're crazy, Y/N. The craziest girl I've ever met."
"Thank you." You smiled.
He pulled you up to sit in his lap, kissing your mouth without hesitantion. "No baby, thank you."
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