#rúben dias blurbs
Note
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
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.
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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.”
#anon asks#oh-saints answers#oh-saints writes#oh-saints writes requests#ruben dias#rúben dias#ruben dias x you#ruben dias imagines#ruben dias one shot#ruben dias fluff#ruben dias blurbs#ruben dias drabbles#ruben dias fanfic#ruben dias fics#football fanfic#football fics#footballer x you#footie fics
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player: Rúben Dias
words: 2.8k
type: angst
Let's fast forward to three hundred awkward blind dates later
If she's got blue eyes, I will surmise that you'll probably date her
You dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor
You search in every model's bed for something greater
Everything you were learning about Rúben is completely against your will and though you’re trying to not let it get under your skin and bury deep into your muscles, you still feel any and all nuggets of information grating against your nerves. So it doesn’t surprise you when your best friend opens her mouth and says “he’s been spotted with another model.” but it does feel like salt is being rubbed onto those nerves too.
“Of course he has,” it comes out a little more bitterly than you’d intended and so you swallow some wine instead to stop yourself from saying anything else that you might regret.
“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what she looks like.” she continues, observing you over the rim of her own glass before she takes a small drink herself.
It’s started to become a running joke for the two of you. You weren’t good enough for Rúben but he was happy to date every woman that remotely resembles you after you. It was a kick in the teeth each time you were faced with another photo of him and his latest beau and a mere mention of someone new feels like a slap.
“Kurt wants to know if you’ll come to dinner on Wednesday.” She changes the subject, knowing that this is a sore spot but it was better that she told you now than being sent it by someone else who believes they’re doing you a favour while not being considerate of your feelings at all.
“No.” You say a little too quickly.
Kurt was one of Rúben’s best friends and if he was hosting a dinner party, then your ex would be there too. You felt suffocated at the best of times merely seeing his name via google or instagram, let alone being made to share the same four walls and a table with the man.
Ex feels too strongly of a word considering you’d barely got past the dating stage. Rúben refused to put a label on the two of you and while you weren’t usually one for wanting them, you did try to ask him where you stood in the situationship. Especially because you were catching feelings, fast and hard and the idea of him not wanting to commit to you pained you more than it scared you. Ultimately, Rúben ended the … situation due to ‘commitment issues’, but had no issues with finding the ability to do so with other people.
“He was invited initially but according to their match fixtures, they have an away Champions League game.” She comments, drumming her fingers on the side of the glass in a beat that you almost recognise.
“I applaud your extensive research before coming to me with Kurt’s invitation.”
“I knew you’d back out almost immediately otherwise -”
“And I did.”
She hums in agreement.
“At least consider it? I’d love to see you there anyway.”
_
You’ve checked and checked and checked again more times than you wanted to admit that Rúben absolutely was out of the country ready for the game tomorrow. With no updates regarding rotations or suspensions from previous games, you’d found it “safe” to leave the comfort of your home and make your way to Kurt’s.
Having Rúben end the relationship had meant that he’d won the monopoly of the friends that you’d made being in his circle, and one of them that you had joint custody over was Kurt. Caring, funny and incredibly supportive, Kurt was everything in a person that you wish you’d found in a friend years previously. Nights at his were never boring and he was the one person you truly felt you could be around and trust not to bring up him in conversation.
By the time he’d opened the front door, you could smell a light warming scent drifting from one of the hallway candles which was quickly swallowed up as you approached the kitchen. If you were peckish upon arrival, then as dinner was being plated up half an hour later, you were famished. Your bestie was still due to arrive thanks to being stuck in traffic both on the way home from work and also after leaving the house. Other mutual friends who you were familiar enough with to interact with but not enough to really talk to are here too.
Bottles of wine and water are on the table along with small baskets of bread and butter which are snatched up by those sitting around you. Several people are still due to arrive, so the amount of empty spaces isn’t bothering you too much, though you do reserve the one next to you for her.
You’re cutting open a bread roll after smushing the butter into a spreadable consistency when your phone beeps and a i’m 5 mins away x text comes through and not for the first time this evening, you sigh a sigh of relief.
-
You’re in the middle of the main course and half a glass of wine down as your bestie is telling you the latest drama from her office when voices in the hallway gets your attention and the voice that once made your stomach flip is now the reason for it dropping. Your head snaps to the head of the table at the opposite end to you and your eyes meet Kurt’s as the voice continues to speak with someone else.
What is he doing here? You mouth a little too aggressively as panic begins to swirl in your stomach. Her fingers touch your arm to try and silently calm you but the more you think about it, the more you feed the dread.
He isn’t supposed to be, is mouthed aggressively back. At least he’s met your energy.
“It’s good to see you again,” comes his voice as he finally steps into the room. “Sorry I’m late.” He says as he finally addresses the room.
The empty space opposite and one seat over now feels as though it’s mocking you. Though it’s not dressed for someone to sit in, you feel as though you should have known this was coming.
“I’ll get you a plate.” Kurt is on his feet faster than you’d have liked him to be but you understand he cannot treat Rúben with disrespect purely because of you nor would you want him to. He gives your shoulder a squeeze as he passes and it’s only in that moment where you feel just how tense your muscles are.
You can hear your breathing coming out in shaky exhales but rather than looking around the table to see what other dinner guests are thinking. You don’t want to look up at the man who you’d held out your heart to. Sure, you’ve seen Rúben around, but not in such an intimate capacity like this. You’ve never had to sit opposite him and felt as though you’ve had to exchange pleasantries. You could, of course, ask to switch seats but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was getting to you.
When you lift your cutlery to begin to eat again, you note that your hands are shaking. You’d rather take a drink but now he’s here, you want as much of a clear mind as you can possibly have. He clouds your judgement far more than any alcohol ever could and he’s stayed in your system longer than any drugs ever would.
Plate to mouth. Mouth to plate. Plate to mouth. You continue until you can’t think anymore.You ignore the sound of a chair being moved and pushed back under, a plateful of food being put down and cutlery clinking together. Talk still flows around the table but it sounds as though you’re listening from under water. Even now with impaired sound, it’s clear it’s become very strained since he came in.
Questions are aimed in his direction and though you try to close off your hearing, you can still hear his replies. If he’s as worried as you are about this meeting, he’s not showing it.
“Do you want this?” You ask your friend, gesturing to the glass.
“Don’t you want it? What’s wrong with it?”
“No, I don’t want it. I want something else.”
“I’m going for one,” James, who sits on the other side of you, says quietly. “I can get one for you too?”
“That’d be great.” You give a small nod and try to give a smile, though you realise in this moment it appears pained.
James was a good man, and someone who you could depend on for a light but long chat. He played the small talk game and he played it well. It wasn’t ever anything much but he gave you good reprieve when you needed it.
It’s not until he’s left the table and in turn, the room, that you remember there’s spare glasses and pitches of water with ice. Not wanting to seem rude, you leave him to get your drink, and busy yourself in pouring a cold glass of water. He returns as you’re taking tentative sips.
“Mmm,” you hum to him to acknowledge that you’ve seen him as he takes his place back at your side while you finish your sips and place the water back on the table and turn to get the drink that Jamie offers you and give a little sniff.
“You remembered.” Small movements swirl the liquid around, ensuring that it’s fully mixed but before you can place it on the table next to the water, you hear
“Might have remembered her drink but you’ve given an extra ice cube.” Your hand freezes as you listen.
“Sorry?” Jamie says. He’s not sorry, it’s more of a chance for Rúben to retract his sentence.
“She prefers two ice cubes not three. You’ve watered down her drink.”
The statement seems to hang in the air between the three of you and when you finally look up, Rúben is looking right at you.
“Thanks Jamie,” your smile is still pained but you give it anyway before taking a quick drink, followed by a deeper one seconds later. “I need some air.” you say quietly to no-one and everyone all at the same time.
Kurt doesn’t fight to keep you at the table and instead, you notice the apologetic expression on his face as you all but flee the room and don’t stop until you’re pulling open the door that leads to the garden and step out. You gulp in the air as you close your eyes and try to clear your head.
Everything had been so good up until then. You’d managed to keep your head down and was fully prepared to not only be civil with him but so sickly sweet he’d need an emergency trip to the dentist.
“Fuck him,” you hiss, letting out some of your frustration under your breath. “Fuck. Him.” You repeat and follow it with a long groan.
“I deserve that.” He says it so quickly, you barely have time to register that he’s said it at all, never mind the fact that he’s snuck up on you. Your heart pounds against your chest with such force, you can’t believe that he’s unable to hear it himself.
“You have some nerve coming out here to me.”
“With you.” he corrects.
You almost scoff at him as you turn to look at him properly for the first time since he arrived. “To me.” you stand your ground. “You decided a long time ago that you’d never step out with me.”
“That’s not fair.”
“What was that back there, Rúben? Seriously. “You watered down her drink.” you impersonate him. “You have no right to correct people on my details when you had no intention of sticking around.”
“So I can’t help?”
“I didn’t need your help. It was a drink. One that he’s made many times before and I’ve never felt the need to correct him before.”
“I just thought if he was making you one, he should make it how you like it.”
“You saw it as an unnecessary dick measuring competition.” You stare him down until he finally looks away. He doesn’t deny it and you knew he wouldn’t. Knew he couldn’t.
“I didn’t think you’d be here.” Rúben tries a different tactic.
“That’s the only reason I’m here because I didn’t think you would be.”
“The highs and lows of football.” He clicks his tongue and points to his thigh. “Felt something in my hamstring. Coach didn’t want to risk it.”
“Shouldn’t you be explaining this to your girlfriend and not me?” You hate that it slips out before you can stop it but you register the look on his face anyway.
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
“Maybe not yet anyway,” you mutter it under your breath and try to push past him but he blocks your way.
“What does that mean?”
“You weren’t ready for a relationship with me but you’re dating the closest possible thing you could find to what you really wanted but were too scared to go for.” And there it is. Months and months of conversations you’ve had with yourself as you’ve lay in bed and gone over everything that happened between you when you’ve had one too many drinks. All the rational, and irrational thinking had led to this moment. Finally putting out your theories to the one person who would either debunk or confirm them.
You watch as he swallows hard and looks away, focusing his attention on almost anything but you. “You still can’t admit that you wanted me more than you let on, can you?”
“What difference would it make to hear it after all this time?” There’s almost a sadness in Rúben’s voice as he realises that it’s now or never to finally get to the bottom of it all.
“Because I know I’m right about us.”
“So it’s about winning then for you,” he doesn’t word it as a question, it feels more of an accusation.
“No. It’s about needing to hear for the first time that what we had was real after months and years of you pretending that it wasn’t.”
“I never pretended.” He tries to justify his actions. “I never said that it didn’t feel real. That it was real.”
“I deserve to know that the only reason why we couldn’t have it all was because you were scared.”
His chest rises and falls as he breathes deeply, the muscle in his cheek twitches as he tries to think about what he needs to say.
“I need to know why they were good enough but I wasn’t. Why date women who look like they could be me if you didn’t want me?” Your voice cracks and you hate that your eyes well up, hot tears now pearling at your lash line, threatening to spill over. You could kick yourself for allowing your emotions to get the better of you.
“You were always good enough. Always. You knew that I wasn’t capable of giving you what you needed at the start. But I wanted to. I could see the life we could have had and I got inside my own head that I couldn’t live up to the version of me that you wanted. That you needed and that you deserved.”
“I’d have taken any version of you Rúben.”
“I know. And I didn’t want you to have one that wasn’t worth it at the time.”
“You hurt me.”
Three words that he’d known all this time, that he’d told himself enough times that he thought if he ever heard it from her, he’d be desensitised to it. But right here and now, he’s not. Hearing it slices into him in a way he couldn’t have predicted.
“I know.”
“I wish that I could get over you.” you say as the tear spills in a hot streak down your cheek and drips from your chin. Another follows and another until you’re forced to wipe them away.
“And I’m selfish enough to not want you to.”
“You’re doing a great job in trying to get me to move on though. Tell me. Where is she? At home waiting for you? Or did she have prior arrangements so she couldn’t come with you tonight?”
“She’s probably at home. Her home.” He clarifies. “Turns out the reality of me is different to the fantasy. You’ll know about that better than anyone.”
“The reality was my fantasy. The only time you ever let me down was when you left me.”
“And if I wanted a chance to make it up to you? Would you let me?”
“I don’t know if I can trust myself to let you back in.”
“I deserve that,” he gives as much of a strained smile that you’d given earlier this evening.
“This has emotionally drained me. I can’t do this tonight. I can’t. ”
“Turning up wasn’t my greatest plan, I’ll admit.”
“No. It wasn’t. But Rúben? I’d give you baby steps to try. Just not tonight.”
#Rúben Dias one shot#Rúben Dias imagine#ruben dias x reader#Rúben Dias blulrb#Rúben Dias drabble#football imagine#football one shot#footballer imagine#footballer one shot#football blurb#football fanfiction#football fanfic#football drabble
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Voodoo ⤷ Rúben Dias
genre: fluff
words: 1.3k
summary: you catch a glimpse of a side to Rúben you do not see often enough when on holiday with him and his friends.
note: this video lives in my head rent free, even til this day so I decided to write a little something :)
The sky shifted from a deep golden hue to a velvety black canvas as you sat on the main deck with Rúben and his friends. Ropes and chains helped to secure the yacht at the marina whilst conversations and uncontrollable laughter filled the air. It was nice to have a well-deserved break from the successful but strenuous football season, so this catch-up was definitely needed. You and Rúben spent the first half of the holiday with his family, and the second half with his friends.
Nervous does not even come close to describing how you felt about meeting Rúben’s family and friends for the first time. You were unsure about whether they would like you or if you would even get along, but those doubts were quickly cast aside the second you met them. Every one of them had made you feel so welcome and loved, you realised it was futile to have been so worried.
Rúben was now standing beside the table shirtless whilst talking to his friends in the warm air of the night, a gentle breeze passing through. Conversations alternated between both Portuguese and English, some involving you and others not. You were not given the usual amount of attention from Rúben, but you didn’t mind that at all. It had been a while since he saw his friends, so naturally he would have lots to talk about. You simply sat there, watching him in pure admiration as he sent you the odd wink when he caught you staring, a small smile of enchantment forming on the corners of your mouth.
As the night went on, the temperature cooled, taking a slightly chilly turn as the air teased your skin. You knew that Rúben would inevitably begin to feel the cold, so you decided to grab his grey hoodie and give it to him before he falls ill.
Rúben stopped mid-conversation, turning his head in your direction when he saw you walking towards him. His face lit up at the sight of you before his gaze landed on the hoodie you were holding, a smile creeping onto his face at your small but thoughtful gesture.
"You read my mind, thank you baby," Rúben took the hoodie from you, tilting his head to the side as he pecked your right cheek. You would think that after being together for so long, you would not redden at the smallest of things, but your cheeks still blushed every time without fail.
"Oh, get a room!" All the boys shouted in unison like innocent little children.
"What? It was just a peck; you guys are exaggerating!" You laughed, shaking your head as you turned away from Rúben to walk back to your seat.
Rúben, on the other hand, had a better idea and was not going to let you go that easily, especially after the boys’ little protest. He dropped the hoodie on his chair before catching your arm to pull you towards his bare torso, your hands landing on his cold but muscular shoulders and his arms wrapped around your waist. You glanced into his mischief-filled eyes as he smirked playfully with his tongue pressed against his cheek. In that moment, you knew exactly what he was planning, and you were more than happy to comply.
After a quick look in the direction of his friends, Rúben winked at them, followed by him closing the gap between his lips and yours. He did not hold back with this little display of affection, his tongue instantaneously sending shivers of desire coursing through you. With each kiss, you fall deeper and deeper in love with him, making it impossible for you to ever become bored of feeling his warm lips against yours. Your tongues danced as the boys hid their faces, not wanting to look as their complaints and whines filtered out as background noise.
If you carried on like this, you and Rúben would actually need to get a room, so you pulled away.
“Is it safe to look now?” one of his friends asked, peeking through his hands which were concealing his face.
“Are we done?” you mumbled, trying to catch your breath as Rúben’s lips hovered over yours.
“We’re done,” he smiled triumphantly at you, equally as breathless, before looking over at his friends, “you need to be careful what you wish for,” Rúben teased as his friends held their hands up in defeat, one of them muttering on about how he is going to be scarred for the rest of his life, making you giggle.
Rúben picked up his hoodie from the chair, sliding into it but leaving the zip open. You sat back down on the couch next to Rúben’s friend, who gave you a disapproving look as he playfully nudged you with his shoulder.
Music started playing from one of the phones, volume on full blast. It was a song you had heard Rúben play before, but not one you understood since it was in Portuguese. You grabbed the closest throw pillow and hugged it as you unlocked your phone to scroll through Instagram.
The sound of Rúben singing along to caught your attention so your eyes flickered to him. What you did not expect was to see was Rúben also dancing along to the song with his friend. It was such a pure moment, a silly side to Rúben you did not see often enough. So, you closed Instagram and opened the camera app instead, tapping the video option to capture this memory. Throughout the recording, a radiant smile was embedded on your face as you watched Rúben so carefree and relaxed.
Eventually, the music quietened as the boys decided to call it a night, each heading to their own rooms to get some sleep as the fresh scent of ocean water continued to linger in the air. You rubbed your eyes as Rúben lay down beside you on the couch, an elated expression on his face.
"You okay?" You shuffled closer to him, resting your head on his chest as you felt the warmth of his body heat against your face.
"Mmhm," you hummed with content as Rúben tenderly ran his hand through your hair.
“Sorry if I got a bit carried away with the boys and didn’t pay you much attention,” Rúben apologised unnecessarily. You lifted your head up to look at him, brows drawn together in confusion.
“You've got nothing to apologise for,” you reassured, “after all, the holiday is for you to catchup with your friends.”
“You’re not mad?” Now Rúben was the confused one, a soft sigh of relief escaping his lips.
“Of course not! I had a really good time honestly,” you started, “but if you feel that bad, you can make it up to me... tonight,” you whispered suggestively, your hand travelling lower down his body, as you felt his muscles tense beneath your fingertips.
“Nah, I don’t feel that bad,” Rúben teased affectionately as he scrunched up his face.
“Ruben!” You playfully hit his chest, turning you head away as you refused to look at him.
“I'm joking, I'm joking!” He threw his head back in laughter. It was so contagious you bit your bottom lip to try and stop yourself form bursting out laughing.
“I love you really,” he admitted as he lifted his hand under your chin, tenderly turning it to face him as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.
“I love you too,” you smiled brightly, eyes fluttering shut as you snuggled into Rúben.
The two of you lay there for a minute, watching the starry sky and enjoying each other's company. As you got up to walk to your shared bedroom, Rúben insisted he carry you bridal style, not talking no for an answer, as he put one of his arms around your back and the other under your legs, lifting you up so effortlessly. You wrapped your arms around his neck before nuzzling your face into the crook and planting a soft kiss there.
#ruben dias#rúben dias#ruben dias x reader#ruben dias imagine#ruben dias oneshot#ruben dias fic#ruben dias fanfic#ruben dias fluff#ruben dias blurb#manchester city#man city#footballer imagine#rubenfinity.fic
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INFORMATIONS! ☆
i don't make full angst stories, but some elements involving the category can be included. request me a smut (politely asking for no extreme bdsm kinks), fluff content too, which i'm passionate about. (anonymously or not). i apologize if your unproblematic ask wasn't reciprocated in the name of my busy activities. please, try to send me again or give me more details of your wishes, using the private inbox. feel honored to talk to the readers. love it infinitely!
── joão félix sequeira.
a crescent love, an ephemeral passion ── joão félix
summary: you and joão spent all the summer together. you even met his friends and brother. could this be the beginning of a crescent love or just an ephemeral passion? his friendship with his ex would ruin everything between the two of you?
69 with joão félix
summary: a concept of you and joão félix sharing jubilation and becoming one.
── dominik szoboszlai.
miss diplomat and mr. charming ── dominik szoboszlai
summary: your job is involving the commitment of unify the population and create interrelations to another countries, using the eurocup qualifiers and the hungary national team executions. you just didn't expect to fall in love with the no. 10's captain player.
── kostantinos "kostas" tsimikas.
none yet.
── rúben dos santos gato alves dias.
none yet.
#joão félix#joao felix#dominik szoboszlai#kostas tsimikas#ruben dias#rúben dias#x reader#imagine#fanfic#fanfiction#smut#fluff#angst#x you#x y/n#headcanon#blurb#drabble#oneshot#one shot#barcelona#fc barcelona#fc barça#fc barca#liverpool fc#liverpool football club#liverpool#manchester city#man city#𑣲. aléxia's works
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Platonic Lies
summary: rúben wants to know if he and Y/N will ever be more then friends.
pairing: rúben dias x reader
genre: angst, fluff
a/n: idk why I'm posting this bc it isn't that good but oh well. any feedback is appreciated <33
➪ can be read as a prequel to monaco memories
Every one of the city players were well aware of how you and Rúben were most definitely more than friends. Your actions spoke for themselves; he would bring you coffee every morning, offer to drive you home after work, those glances that lingered slightly longer than they should and not to mention the endless flirting. Despite all that, you were in constant denial, simply dismissing anyone who would say you're not just friends as the tension in the room grew.
"Is Rúben okay?" you asked John, as you fidgeted with the camera in your hand, pretending to look busy.
"Yeah, why?" He took a sip of water from the bottle as you walked beside him towards the pitch for the afternoon training session with the rest of the team.
"I just haven't seen him in a while," you lied. In fact you had seen Rúben but whenever you tried to talk to him, he would make excuses and walk away. Normally, you two would be inseparable but something's changed. Instead of handing you coffee every morning with his bright smile, he would leave it on your desk. You started to wonder if you did something wrong. He was avoiding you and you needed to find out why.
"I can send him to your office if you want," John winked suggestively, a chuckle escaping his lips.
"Shut up," you laughed, pushing him out onto the pitch as you saw everyone return from their lunch break.
The rest of the afternoon dragged on as you wanted training to end quickly so you were able to clear the air with Rúben. The perfect time to do this was after training, in the changing room, as he was always the last one out. Once everyone else left, you anxiously walked in, wanting answers from him.
"Y/N, what are you doing here?" you took Rúben by surprise, as he was ready to leave with his bag all packed.
"Listen Rúben, I really need to-" you tried to explain before he interrupted you.
"John's waiting for me, I should go," he grabbed his bag and walked straight past you towards the door, refusing to stay.
"He can wait a few more minutes, can we please talk?" You held his hands in an attempt to stop him.
"Have I done something to hurt you? Tell me so I can fix it Rúben, I miss you," your voice barely a whisper.
"You've done nothing wrong but I think it would be better if you stayed away from me.”
"But we used to be such close friends, why can't we go back to that?" you pleaded.
That struck a nerve.
“Friends, huh?” he laughed sarcastically, letting go of your hands as he clenched his jaw and shook his head, "we're not just friends and you know it."
“I really like you Y/N, and I know the feeling is mutual but something’s holding you back and I wanna know what,” he whispered as his face inched nearer to yours, lips almost brushing. Taken by surprise, you stumbled backwards and you were against the wall.
“All I can think about is kissing you when I know I shouldn’t,” he confessed in a lowered voice, taking a step towards you so that you were trapped between his body and the wall.
"Rúben, we can’t, I can’t-” you hesitated as you noticed Rúben’s gaze flicker to your lips.
“Why not?” he ran his thumb lightly across your bottom lip.
“Because we’re colleagues and if we start dating-” you rambled on knowing that it was a pathetic excuse, until you were interrupted by a pair of lips crashing onto yours.
After the brief initial shock, your eyed fluttered shut as you eased into the soft and gentle kiss. You gave up pretending that the feelings you had for Rúben were platonic, because they were far from it. He was right, you did really like him, from the moment you first saw him, if you're finally being honest now. You were just overthinking and overcomplicating things—it's what you do best.
Rúben’s hands travelled down to your waist, gently pressing his body against yours. The hem of your shirt lifted slightly and he rested his hands on the bare skin of your waist.
“Do you want me to stop?” he breathed, resting his forehead against yours.
Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss.
“I’ll take that as a no,” he murmurs into your mouth as you both smile into the kiss before you hear a familiar voice.
"Rúben, mate, how long are you—woah, I didn't mean to inter—," he paused for a second, before shouting, "KYLE COME AND SEE THIS."
Embarrassed that you had been caught, you hid your face in the crook of Rúben's neck, a soft laugh escaping the two of you.
“Need to take a picture of this moment, I was starting to think you two would never happen,” John mumbled as he unlocked his phone and took a quick photo.
#ruben dias#ruben dias x reader#ruben dias imagine#ruben dias oneshot#ruben dias fic#ruben dias fanfic#ruben dias fluff#ruben dias blurb#mcfc#manchester city#football#footballer imagine#mountsmasonfics#rúben dias
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ruben dias size
i was wondering guys have you ever saw ruben’s boner? Like i could never find a video or a pic of it, i mean i f anyone has it don’t hesitate to share🤭
#natwrites08#football imagines#football imagine#football blurb#football fanfic#football fic#football one shot#footballer imagine#asknat#ruben dias one shot#ruben dias#rúben dias#ruben dias imagine#ruben dias x reader#ruben dias x you#ruben dias x y/n#ruben dias smut
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cindy lou who; rúben dias blurb
summary: hurts to realize you were the woman before the one
warnings: angst, alcohol abuse as a coping mechanism
note: this blurb is inspired by the song 'cindy lou who' by sabrina. im gonna make a new series with fruitcake ep so this is the first — venus 🫂💐🫧
You wished you hadn't turned on your phone, wished you hadn't opened Instagram with the intent of capturing the first time you felt a positive emotion after four months of doubting your worth.
That spontaneous happiness, your smile for the festivities, and your outgoing personality were snatched away in a second when you saw that photo on his Instagram. Your finger hovered, filled with sadness, analyzing his facial expression and his enamored gaze.
His lips on her cheek as she laughed, a flawless smile adorning her face with crimson lipstick highlighting her full lips.
You swiftly turned off your phone; you couldn't continue torturing yourself. But your mind denied you that possibility—how could you escape the unbearable alarm that had triggered in your mind? Just when you thought you'd found an exit, it turned out to be an illusion, and you were standing on the edge of the cliff all along.
Even your favorite song blaring through the club speakers wasn't going to stop you from unfairly reproaching yourself for not having been enough for him. Had you failed at something?
Perhaps you should have tried harder to reach his heart, even though you were just rubbing salt in the wound because, in your wisdom, you knew the limits he set in front of your actions to prevent you from crossing further.
Why with her? Why did she seem to have found that ingredient you had been searching for so desperately? Your chest burned. What kind of karma did you owe to endure this?
Could you even blame her? If she resembled a fallen angel from heaven with her white dazzling teeth and long, jet-black hair like Cleopatra, and you admitted that your assigned role in Rúben's life was to guide him, to accompany him to the final stop, to the dock.
And now, drowning in alcohol, your mind kept processing the treatment he surely gave her, everything he denied with you—introducing her to his family, sitting by the fireplace with her in his arms telling childhood stories, dreaming about a life together while kissing underneath the fireworks, feeling the explosive magic he didn't want with you but with her.
You downed another shot, the climax in your state that failed to make you forget about him, the whole room spinning around. Amidst your group of friends, you grabbed your best friend's hand, running to the bathroom where you vomited while she rubbed your back and tied up your hair. "He didn't deserve you," she whispered, watching as you finally crumbled, hugging the toilet.
A night where you thought you could return to your former self before his body was tattooed on your fingerprints like a spirit clinging to your shoulders, one that would forever haunt you turned into just another chapter with an open ending.
#ruben dias x reader#ruben dias angst#ruben dias x you#football x reader#football angst#football imagine#ruben dias imagine#ruben dias blurb
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safeword
it’s not a rare occurrence to spice up some things in your love life with rúben, including but not limited to the sex aspect. but when things get tough for you, you have to tap out and at that sight, rúben has never felt so sorry for you.
rúben dias x you
tw: filthy smut (like, foreplay to overstimulation while being blindfolded kind of filthy) and its aftercare
wc: 2.3k
prompts: “using safeword during sex” + “aftercare”
note: so many of you ask for a rúben smut, therefore may i present you, in this 1st post of smut week... this is based on these two asks! I never said I didn’t warn you, guys… pls DNI if you’re not 18 yet! but as usual, I happen to write at dawn so this is not beta-read yet.
“oh fuck, rúben!”
you didn’t know if your mouth produced a groan or a gasp or something in between because they sounded so carnal to you that you didn’t want to find out what that sound was categorised as. your brain had been melting since the first touch rúben landed on your skin after he’d managed to persuade you to put on a blindfold.
it’d be fun, he said.
of course it’d be fun for him. your boyfriend wasn’t on the receiving end of his torturous, sensual touches.
of course it’d be fun for him. your boyfriend wasn’t on the receiving end of his torturous, sensual touches.
it wasn’t your boyfriend that felt the sensation of his fingers pinching on one of your nipples while his mouth engulfed the other pink bud, his sinful touch worked wonders simultaneously with his teeth lightly biting.
it wasn’t your boyfriend that arched whenever his thumb pulled your nipple to a stiffness you didn’t know could make you more receptive than any other time he’d done this with you.
it wasn’t your boyfriend that was taken aback whenever he switched his thumb with his mouth, left and right, so relentlessly without giving you a break to breathe. it wasn’t your boyfriend that felt the striking difference between the cold air of his bedroom and the warmth you were provided by his hands and mouth.
it wasn’t your boyfriend’s ears that were fed by the disgusting sounds of his tongue lapping the areola like it was his last supper—sucking them good to the point he could tug on the erected bud gently, circling them around, back and forth like he didn’t want this to end.
but god, you did because he’d been doing these sinful things to you that it endangered your sanity. because you couldn’t see whatever he was doing.
it wasn’t your boyfriend that was being blindfolded, resulting in every of your senses heightened in sensitivity. as if being cuffed to the bedpost above you wasn’t enough, rúben killed you twice by heightening your anticipation.
it wasn’t your boyfriend that already came—thrice, mind you—under his ministrations because of that spiking anticipation, not knowing what to expect and when to expect his agonizing foreplay, and he hadn’t even touched you where you wanted him to.
and now his hands was stroking gently from the death grip of yours against the silk tie he was wearing earlier, down to your armpit, while his mouth alternated between the left and right sides of your mound like he couldn’t pick a better one to settle. so selfish of him, so arrogant, yet so sexy. “rúben, I—”
“I know, baby,” he said, and god was he not satisfied at your posture underneath him. arching so sexily like a vixen in need of mercy not to be killed, anything to get you off. fortunately for him, it was the figurative meaning. “you can come.”
“I don’t think—ow, fuck!”
you trashed your body to the left this time because he was nipping on the sides of your right, down to your belly button, before settling down just an inch before your opening, which had been dripping wet shamelessly even before you came for the first time this evening.
with his touches everywhere and his mouth so close yet so far to the very itching part of your body, you felt like your insides were exploding but too weak to combust. “I can’t, rúben, I can’t—”
“yes, you can, baby,”
you wanted to—god did you want to reach your high so bad—especially with the way rúben left trail of kisses all over the inside of your thighs, ending with a gentle kiss on top of your swollen labia.
but you didn’t have the energy too. your stamina had been diverted elsewhere—to your senses when kept blindfolded, to your hands when you gripped the silk material preventing you from touching your boyfriend, to your brain when you forced your lungs to breathe.
“you’re my good girl,” rúben whispered huskily against the sensitive skin, his teeth and tongue grazing insanely close to where you wanted him. with the way you were spread submissively, an inch closer to your inside would grant you his tongue on your clit. “I know you can.”
you knew you could, but not now. you needed a break first.
“rúben, I—” you bit your lips because you wanted to cry. you wanted to cry as rúben dived into your clit, licking them like they were a gelato served on a plate, because you couldn’t take it anymore, yet rúben was incredible on his tongue work you didn’t want to miss it. “rúben, no, no, no,”
if you thought the sounds rúben was making earlier was disgusting, the sounds rúben was making now was downright dirty. his tongue went up and down along your clit, circling the bud for a while as he enjoyed your bodily reactions, even went to dip the tip of his tongue to your hole slightly before pulling out. and before you realised it, you were shaking and trembling as orgasm knocked on your door.
“oh fuuuuuuuck—”
you could feel your juices coming out so liquidly fast you would’ve been so embarrassed at it if it was any other sex for you, but it wasn’t and you were now limping out of energy. strikingly different to your boyfriend who you were sure could still hold up another dozen rounds of sex, indicated by the patient pace of him licking your cum and devouring it like the drink to his last supper.
he even still had the guts to suck your swollen clitoris like he wanted to bring you to another orgasm. you swore that tongue—oh fucking hell.
not the fingers coming into play now.
rúben inserted two of his fingers while his thumb supported his tongue, going up and down while his tongue went sideways against the clitoral hood and his other fingers stroked in and out of your insides. you swore you had never heard a raunchier sound than what your boyfriend was currently torturing you with, so wet it became so slick and smooth for his fingers to glide in and out.
“you taste so delicious, meu amor,” you could even feel his smile against the hot skin of yours. the audacity, you groaned inwardly. “give me one more.”
you were now on the edge of consciousness, you could feel it. especially with the way you were slowly but surely spurting in his palms. you really couldn’t to it anymore, for god’s sake.
so you cried in your scream while you were brought down to another earth-shattering high. fuck the bedpost if you succeeded in bending them. “red! red! red!”
gone immediately was your boyfriend from literally every inch of you. you could sense him pulling away from you, and as much as you hated him for pushing you over the edge—quite literally at that—you missed his warmth exuding from his giant body already. it was the only thing that kept you going during the excruciating moments that you just passed with not-so flying colours.
seconds later, you felt the bed dipped on the sides of your head, along with rúben’s hands—gone was the harsh touches too—freeing you from the restrains on your hands. you might have to ask how he could tie something so tight while untangling them so easy.
“I’m going to take off the blindfold now,” you could feel rúben rubbing off your wrists, kissing the insides of them that must’ve gone red by now because of your constant bodily protests against the material of his tie. “please stay with me, meu amor.”
the kisses went down from the insides of your wrists, to your arms, to your temple before it settled down on your lips. which had gotten swollen from his ruthless bites and your attempts to suppress your moans from getting too loud, you were sure of. you then felt his lips touched the sides of your cheeks, simultaneously with his hands cupping your face gently.
his thumb wiped the fresh tears escaping your shut pair of eyes as he whispered against your lips. “me perdõe, minha vida. I’ve pushed you too far.”
you couldn’t respond to his apology because you were still silently crying underneath the blindfold. not because you hated him for pushing you too far—his words, that is—but because you were so relieved it was over this time and you gained back your ever gentle, ever loving boyfriend back.
tonight was only a test from rúben of how far he could take you and how far you could trust him, and you wished to remain that way. tonight only, not more.
“please talk to me, baby,” you could feel him detaching one of his palms from your cheek, before feeling them stroking the top of your head and ended up on the back of your head, where the knot of the blindfold was. “please, I’m so sorry, my love.”
you could feel the material slipping off around your head but you were still gathering your composure and leftover energy before you could face your boyfriend without feeling ashamed. you initially wanted to show him how much you trust him, that your trust never wavered, but you failed. pretty badly at that. it felt like you were the one that was supposed to be apologising.
you could feel your throat getting dry from the endless intake of broken breaths and gasps and moans in between rúben’s relentless ministrations earlier, so you asked for a glass of water before you could embarrass yourself further by producing an ugly screeching noise. rúben immediately dashed for the kitchen, and you utilised the small space of privacy to adjust your eyes to the light dimming in the bedroom.
your earlier suspicion was confirmed—your wrists were very red, your breasts were swollen badly, your thighs were disgustingly wet. not to mention the blue-ish and purple spots trails everywhere from your collarbone to the insides of your thighs. you tried to sit up to see whatever more your boyfriend gifted your skin with, but your body ached everywhere. you could even swear the muscle on your abs were even tenser than the first time you did poundfit.
just as you plopped back your head back to the pillow, resigning from the reality that you wouldn’t be able to be out of bed for the remaining of the weekend, the culprit of all this came back with a glass of water and a mini basket of what you’d like to think as creams. hopefully one of them had the capability to soothe the tense muscles.
“I can’t move, rúben,” you chuckled, feeling ridiculous yourself, as you were handed the quench to your thirst. “please help me get up.”
your boyfriend visibly flinched at the implied information that he had, indeed, pushed you too much over the limit. so selfishly, like you weren’t someone so precious to him. but he collected himself in seconds, dropped everything else to the bedside table, before scooping you in his arms in bridal style as if you weighed nothing more than a stack of paper.
you took the chance to bury your nose on the crook of his neck, wondering how the hell his signature smell could still stay on despite being sweaty the past hours. it shouldn’t be fair, you thought, while your boyfriend sat down on the bed, leaning against the bedpost he tangled yourself to earlier, with you in his arms still.
by the looks of it, he didn’t have the desire to let go of you. he almost lost you in less than 15 minutes ago, mind you.
“are you comfortable now?” and you could only nod in your position, cradled like a fine china by your favourite giant. he took it as a sign to fetch back the glass of water he brought for you, guessing you must’ve been very perched from voicing your exasperations being held back. “what else do you need, baby? tell me.”
this time you shook your head as you downed the clear liquid, while rúben’s hands were both drawing circles on the top of your hip and on the side of your thigh respectively, in hope it could further relax you. he certainly wasn’t lying when he said the last words—he was on that level of sorry he would do anything for you this instant.
but he knew you weren’t one to jump into the water when given the opportunity. at least, materialistically.
“please stop saying sorry, big guy,” this time was your turn to hold the side of his face, directing them so you could see him eye to eye. “I want this too, remember?”
“but still—”
“okay then, you’re forgiven,” you said, but the widening smile on your face signalled him you had something else up in your sleeve. “but you have to carry me everywhere because I really think I can’t walk.”
and he truly stood by his words, for he carried you bridal style everywhere you wanted until the weekend ended. despite being embarrassed on some locations—your favourite baker down the block laughed at the sight when you told rúben you were craving for her sourdough—you weren’t complaining. you were confident that he’d always love you like this.
#anon asks#oh-saints answers#oh-saints writes#oh-saints writes requests#ruben dias#rúben dias#ruben dias one shot#ruben dias smut#ruben dias fluff#ruben dias imagines#ruben dias blurbs#ruben dias drabbles#ruben dias x you#ruben dias fic#ruben dias fics#ruben dias fanfic#footballer x you#footballer smut#football fanfiction
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Too Much
Player: Rúben Dias
Words: 751
Request: 700+ | you / your | Fluff please! Cuddles after a rough day
-
Rúben wasn’t home when you arrived, but it gave you time to try and shake the heaviness of the day from you. Peeling the clothes from your body was something, but stepping under the water seemed to just wash away most of the tension, allowing you to stand under the hot steam and stream until your skin felt numb and had started to prickle. You couldn’t say what it was about the day, but it all felt like a weight resting upon your shoulders which only increased the longer you remained on shift and a pounding at your skull in such a way that made you want to cry. The only thing that stopped you was knowing how such crying would bring on a headache afterwards and you didn’t need or want another ache adding.
The soft fluffy towel that covered your body seemed to act as a barrier between you and the world as you sit on the chair, the chair that seemed to be in everyone’s room which usually became the middle ground between the wardrobe and the laundry basket. You couldn’t pinpoint what had made today so awful but it left you vulnerable and drained. As much as you’d have preferred to have Rúben home when you returned, you’re relieved to have these moments alone. Rúben would have worried, he always does and with Arsenal still points ahead, you wanted him concentrating on their games and not worrying about you.
By the time you’ve pulled on fresh, soft PJs and made your way downstairs, Rúben is opening the front door and stepping inside. The cold spring air seems to swirl over the floor, biting at your ankles and slithering up your body until you can’t fight the shiver any longer, sending your body into short lived convulsions.
“I’m sorry I missed the game,” you tell him, even though it’s a sentence you’ve said numerously in present tense since you received your work rota and were unable to swap.
“Hey, it’s ok. There’s always other games. It’s not as though you missed much,” he shrugs nonchalantly, despite Haaland scoring yet another hattrick and making a mockery of the opposition.
“Clearly not,” the smile you force onto your face is far too transparent and Rúben sees straight through you.
“Hey, what are you not telling me?” He asks, abandoning the shedding of his outer clothes and steps towards you instead. Hot tears well up in your eyes the moment his hands are on you and you’re pulled into a hug by him. They cloud your vision and any attempt at blinking, while sending the existing ones down your cheeks, only brings on more. He doesn’t probe, he simply stands there, wrapped around you and waits for you to open up. Moments or minutes, you’re not sure, pass by before you shrug out from underneath him and step away.
Your thumbs swipe beneath your eyes and the heel of your hands drag down your cheek to dry yourself off as much as possible as you try to compose yourself. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, struggling with those two words alone as the lump in your throat takes over, making it hard to swallow let alone speak. You give him a smile that you hope appears sympathetic or apologetic or one of the etic words of a similar theme, and with the expression that changes his features into one of concern.
“Don’t say anything yet.” He's careful, hand so close to your body that you can feel the warmth from it but he doesn’t touch you again. He’s done this enough to know the simplest of gestures from him can bring on a crying session that neither of you are ever prepared for. You appreciate the distance. “Come get on the sofa. I can make you a drink and if you just want to cuddle, we’ll cuddle. If you want to talk, we’ll talk.”
“You really don’t mind?” The words feel choked out and unlike earlier where the weight of the day rested upon you, now it feels like shame is doing the same.
“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you stay upset?”
“A normal one?”
“True, but I try to do better. That’s why exes become exes.” he states and gives you a closed lip smile. “Couch. Now.” he says as begins to walk away, “and if you’re not there when I get in that room, I will put you over my shoulder and take your ass there.”
#Rúben Dias one shot#Rúben Dias imagine#Rúben Dias blurb#Rúben Dias drabble#Rúben Dias fanfic#Rúben Dias fanfiction
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Teasing For Two ⤷ Rúben Dias
genre: fluff
summary: you often spent the weekends at your brother’s house but this time it was different, as his best friend Rúben was also staying over. There has always been a spark between you and your brother's best friend but neither of you acted on it until now.
words: 2.1k
note: hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it,, likes/reblogs/comments are always appreciated <3
The clock struck 1 in the morning as you tossed and turned in bed. A quiet exasperated sigh escaped you whilst pulling the duvet back. Clearly, the whole sleeping thing was not working out so you dragged your feet downstairs, wearing only an oversized shirt and shorts. You searched for food in the fridge and kitchen cupboards, but there was only one thing that would be able to satisfy your late night cravings — chocolate chip cookies. And not just any old chocolate cookies but your ‘signature bake’ as your brother would put it. After several failed baking attempts in the past, you created your own recipe and since then, you never looked back.
As you knew the recipe from the top of your head, you preheated the oven and weighed the ingredients into separate bowls. Whilst stuffing some of the left-over chocolate chips in your mouth, you mixed together the butter and sugar, followed by the eggs and then the dry ingredients.
“Need some help?” a deep voice took you by surprise, causing you to drop the wooden spoon.
“Shit, Rúben! You scared me,” you whisper-yelled, bending down to pick up the spoon and throwing it in the sink to wash later.
“And you need to be a little quieter,” he whisper-yelled back, mockingly. You did think you were being quiet but obviously not.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—,” your eyes found Rúben standing at the bottom of the stairs. And that was when you properly looked at him, a lump forming in your throat.
He was wearing nothing but a pair of grey joggers hanging low on his hips. Despite the dim kitchen lighting, you were still able to see each and every one of his defined muscles from his arms to his abs. And when you noticed his messy hair, all you wanted to do was thread your hands through it.
“Like what you see?” Rúben asked, unable to resist a smirk.
“Huh, I wasn’t staring at you,” you denied too quickly, looking everywhere but at him. You hoped that the dimly-lit kitchen was enough to mask your now crimson coloured face from the embarrassment of being caught staring at him.
“What would you call that then?” he raised an eyebrow, trying to see what kind of excuse you were going to conjure up this time.
“I was… analysing you,” Nope, that definitely made it worse. This was all going downhill so fast; it was so unlike you to stumble over your words.
“You were analysing my body?” Rúben teased. You could just tell he was loving every second of this by the cockiness smeared all over his face.
“No, I was analysing how ugly you look,” you retorted, wincing at your reply as you crossed your arms. You could have at least told a more convincing lie.
“Is that so?” he chuckled amusedly, not believing a word that came out of your mouth, whilst finding this nervous side of you endearing.
“Uh-huh,” you spun round without giving him another chance to tease you, hoping he would leave it at that. Your attention was now focused back on the cookies, giving the ingredients a final mix to make sure they were all combined. Then, you started to roll the mixture into cookie dough balls.
“What are you making then?” Rúben’s voice was getting closer and closer.
“Chocolate chip cookies,” you managed to say as you felt Rúben stand behind you, his bare torso ever so slightly pressed against your back. Impulsively, you leaned into his touch as your body ached for more, feeling his body tense under your touch. At this rate, you'll be here until morning baking cookies.
“My favourite,” your breath hitched as you felt Rúben’s words against your neck.
“Since when do cookies fit into your footballer diet?” You turned around, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but you were caught off-guard by the distance, or lack thereof, between the two of you.
“They don’t, but no-one needs to know,” he winked suggestively, and you could not help but think whether his words had a double meaning. You hated how Rúben was in control of the whole situation when normally you are the one teasing him.
“The only way you’ll be allowed any cookies is if you help,” clearing your throat, you tilted your head up to look at Rúben's face and not his shirtless torso you were currently standing very close to.
“I’ll do whatever you want, I’m all yours,” Rúben lifted his hand as he tenderly tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, your eyes locking.
“Okay, now stop distracting me, I need to get these in the oven,” A blush crept onto your face under the heat of his gaze.
“How am I distracting you? I’m just having a conversation with you… unless you’re analysing my body again,” his mouth curved into a smile. You were never going to live that down.
“No!” you said a little too loud as you spun back around to continue rolling the dough.
Rúben moved to stand beside you, his back leaning against the countertop as he intently watched you roll the dough.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” you muttered sarcastically, but nonetheless he takes his phone out, opens the camera and takes a candid photo of you in your element.
“Did you seriously— I didn’t actually mean it,” You explained incredulously after hearing the camera shutter sound from Rúben’s phone.
“I know,” he stared proudly at the photo on his phone, earning an eye roll from you.
“Make yourself useful and help me roll the cookie dough,” you plastered on a fake smile as you pushed the bowl of mixture a little to your right. The two of you rolled the dough in a comfortable silence, your hands often brushing whenever either of you took the dough from the bowl, each touch sending a fluttering sensation to your stomach.
“Am I doing this right?” it was impossible to resist a smile when you saw Rúben furrowing his brows, his forehead crinkling in concentration for such a simple thing.
“Yeah, that's perfect and then just put it on this tray,” you pushed the baking tray lined with greaseproof paper closer to Rúben.
When the tray was full of cookie dough, you slid it into the oven to bake for approximately 10-12 minutes. In the meantime, Rúben started to pile the dishes in the sink as you wiped the marble countertop of flour you spilled when measuring out the ingredients.
“Only the dishes left now,” after cleaning the last of the mess, you turned to face Rúben, whose eyes fell to the corner of your mouth.
“You have a little something on your face,” Rúben leans in, his thumb wiping chocolate off your face, which was most likely from those chocolate chips you were practically inhaling. When that was done, Rúben didn't move away. His thumb glided along your bottom lip as his gaze lingered on your lips and then darted to your eyes. You were unable to look away as a sense of longing and anticipation filled his eyes. The air around you thickened as you inhaled shakily, feeling your heart race before parting your lips slightly.
“Rúben, I…,” you leaned in closer until the gap was almost non-existent, “... I need to check on the cookies,” you teasingly whispered against his lips, a glint of mischief flashing in your eyes before casually walking towards the oven, pretending to be unfazed by the past few minutes.
Rúben bit his lip, shaking his head amusedly as he knew you were teasing him as payback for earlier. The cookies had barely been in the oven for 5 minutes so they definitely would not be done so soon.
Two can play that game, Rúben taking it as a challenge.
As you bent down to open the oven door, you subtly lifted up your shirt to make sure Rúben had a good view of your ass. If you knew that he would be spending the weekend here, you would have packed some sexy silk pyjamas, but you had to make do with what you had now. You 'inspected' the doneness of the cookies, standing in that position for a little longer than necessary.
"Nope, they still need some time," you shut the oven door and propped yourself on the countertop, a grin on your face.
"I know what we can do until then,'' Rúben walked towards you, standing between your legs as he mindlessly traced invisible patterns on your bare skin. A rush of pink stained your cheeks as your pulse quickened with each caress.
"Yeah?" You breathed, feeling his hands travel higher up your thighs. With each touch, your heart pounded louder and louder, to the point that you were convinced Rúben could hear it.
"Yeah," Rúben inched nearer to you, his lips dangerously close to yours as your noses gently brushed. The two of you waited for the other to make the move, but you were equally as stubborn, and Rúben knew that too. So instead, he tilted his head to the side, his breath hot against your ear when he softly said, "you can wash up and I'll watch."
"Or you can shut up and kiss me," Rúben’s head snapped back in your direction, his mouth agape as he blinked slowly, surprised at your blatant statement. You froze, eyes widening at the realisation of what you said.
"Did I just say that out loud?" Shit.
"You did," A smirk was playing on Rúben's lips, that smug smirk that vexed you beyond comparison.
Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around Rúben's neck as you pulled him in for a kiss. He didn’t hesitate to reciprocate, a fleeting smile on his lips since he has finally felt your lips against his. Rúben’s hands swiftly travelled down to your waist, pulling your body closer. He needed to feel every inch of you. The kiss started off slow and gentle but grew more heated the longer you kissed. Reluctantly, you pull away, missing the warmth of the kiss almost instantly.
"That, uh, wasn't a kiss by the way," you mumbled breathlessly, "I was just getting rid of that stupid smirk," you bit your bottom lip, trying to hide the smile on your face.
"Just admit it Y/N, you like me," Rúben’s gaze locked with yours for a brief second.
"No, you admit it," your voice barely a whisper as you avoided eye contact. Your hands trail down to fidget with the chain that rested on Rúben’s collarbones, his muscles tensing under your fingertips caressing his chest.
"You already know how I feel about you,"
"I need to hear you say it," you found the courage to look into his eyes which glistened with nervousness.
"I like you Y/N, like a lot and I didn't say anything before because I didn't know how you felt about me but the more time I spend with you, the more I know you feel it too. So tell me, am I wrong to think that?"
"No," you breathed, shaking your head, still gazing deep into his eyes.
"So… you like me back?" hope tinged in Rúben’s voice.
"Yeah…” you started quietly, “but when you said you like me a lot, I like you a little less than a lot," Rúben narrowed his eyes in utter confusion, but when he finally understood what you said, he playfully rolled his eyes and kissed you.
"You should've just stopped at yeah," he chuckled against your lips. Conveniently, the oven timer started beeping, which meant the cookies were ready.
"Rúben, let go of me," you giggled as he peppered gentle kisses on your neck, "the cookies will burn or worse, my brother might wake up."
Rúben stopped in his tracks, freezing on the spot for a split second before throwing himself across the kitchen. He frantically searched for the oven gloves and took the cookies out, leaving them to cool. The smell of freshly baked cookies surrounding the kitchen as Rúben made his way back to you.
"There, cookies are out, now, where were we?"
#ruben dias#rúben dias#ruben dias x reader#ruben dias imagine#ruben dias oneshot#ruben dias fic#ruben dias fanfic#ruben dias fluff#ruben dias blurb#manchester city#man city#football#footballer imagine#rubenfinity.fic
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Please can I request a rúben dias blurb?? Reader has a tough day and comes home upset, Ruben looks after her🥲
Aw this is so sweet! I’m literally in the mood to write something like that! Thank you 🤍
Other situations.
Rúben Dias x Y/N
Summary: Rúben knows what to do to take care of you, when you have a bad day at work.
Warnings: none really, just some sexual innuendos.
gif credits to @rubenfinity
You were sure you’d find him in there, in the gym, his natural habitat.
As soon as you opened the door, careful not to make a sound, your eyes landed on his body: he was busy doing pull ups; his upper body was covered by a green tank and he had some black shorts on, his arms were glistening with sweat and on his face you could read the usual look of determination that always painted his features.
When he noticed you, his eyes quickly moved from his reflection in the mirror to yours. He could see the pout on your face from a mile, as it was so pronounced that it was hard to miss.
Rúben made quick work of finishing the set, and only when he was done he let his feet touch the ground. But before he could even turn around, your arms were wrapped around his waist: you leaned your cheek on his broad back, closing your eyes at the contact and relaxing into him.
“Bad day?” Rúben asked, as if he could read your mind.
“The worst day ever…” you grumbled, frowning behind his back and hugging him tighter.
“Babe I’m covered in sweat,” Rúben chuckled at your clingyness, his long fingers caressed your soft skin gently while he thought about what could have happened for you to be in such a mood, “why don’t we go and take a shower? You can talk to me about your awful day once we’re all cleaned up and in our pjs…”
“You know I don’t care about it…” your voice came out as a whine, “I actually love it when you’re all sweaty…”
“I know you do,” he giggled amused and entranced by how endearing you were, “just, maybe in other “situations”… not when I’ve been training for the past two hours!”
“I’d like for you to explain those “other situations” better…” you mused, watching as your boyfriend turned around in your embrace, standing face to face with you now.
“Maybe I will…” his voice was low in your ear, causing a shiver to roll up your spine from the anticipation, “Come with me now, let me take care of you.”
And you did. You followed him into your bedroom, and into the ensuite bathroom. You let Rúben take care of you; he guided you into the shower, the warm water was cascading on the both of you making him look good enough to eat; you sighed contentedly while his hands, so big yet so delicate, massaged every single inch of your skin: starting from your scalp, working on the knots in your shoulders then down your spine; you felt like you were in heaven, his loving touch was really working wonders on your mood, and you could sense that this was Rúben’s intention all along: to make you feel better, more relaxed and above all happier.
“Are you feeling any better?” Rúben asked you while he towel-dried your hair, paying attention not to cause you any discomfort.
“Mh hm…” was your only response, as you couldn’t really bring yourself to speak while you were enjoying being pampered by your man.
“Do you want me to blow dry them too?” he proposed, standing behind you while you stood in front of the bathroom’s mirror.
“Please…”
The way you leaned your head back, letting it rest into his palms even more, was enough of an answer for Rúben. He applied each and every product he saw you use on your hair, and you were happily surprised when you saw he not only paid attention to what you put on it, but he even remembered the right order of application!
“How could you possibly remember??” you asked, dumbfounded.
“What??”
“The things I do to my hair…”
“Oh… it’s just a little thing, like you know…” he stopped mid sentence, thinking about every little detail he knew about you, “Like the fact that you love a warm cup of coffee in the morning, without sugar when you’ve got a headache, or the way you subconsciously pout when something went wrong at work, even if you don’t want to let the others worry…”
You listened to him, entranced by all the small things he noticed about you.
“I love you.” you blurted out while Rúben was going on with his rambling.
“I love you too…” he smiled softly, while he finished blow drying your hair, “Should we order some pizza for dinner?”
“But you can’t eat pizza babe…” you pouted at him through the mirror.
“I’m gonna make an exception for tonight,” he winked, “my girl needs pizza, since pizza is her favourite food…” he added before he pressed a kiss on the top of your head, “So pizza is it!”
“I love you so so much Rúben…” you gently smiled at him, turning around and going on your tiptoes to peck his lips, “thank you for taking care of me…”
“I love you too,” he said, bumping his nose against yours, “and I love taking care of you even more… now come on, let’s go and order that pizza.”
“Please, I’m starving!”
“I know amor, I know…”
“Do you reckon you could explain those “other situations” to me once we had our dinner?” you mused, spurred by his portuguese words, your greatest weakness.
“I suppose so…” he whispered while he tucked your hair behind your ear, “But I will explain them to you once we’ll be done with your skincare okay?”
“I think we can skip my skincare for tonight…” you looked at him with your best doe eyes, biting the corner of your lower lip, “We could probably skip dinner too as far as I’m concerned…”
“Don’t tempt me… we have to eat.”
“We could order dinner once we… you know…” you proposed while your hands slipped under his white t-shirt.
“Well those “other situations” are pretty urgent indeed…” he countered, “I think the sooner I show them to you, the better it is…”
“I couldn’t agree more…” you whispered against his lips, before he took you in his arms and closed the bedroom door.
#anon#anon ask#anon request#ruben dias#ruben dias request#ruben dias imagine#ruben dias imagines#ruben dias one shot#ruben dias one shots#ruben dias fanfic#ruben dias fanfics#ruben dias fluff#ruben dias x reader#ruben dias x y/n#football imagines#football one shots#football fanfics#football fluff#footballer imagines#footballer one shots#footballer fanfics#footballer x reader#footballer x y/n#footballer fluff
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between the lines | table of contents
rúben dias x original female character [+18]
synopsis: isabella is a sports journalist covering the premier league. she has sworn to never get involved with a football player. that is, until she meets a handsome portuguese defender.
warnings: incorrect journalism references; timeline of events are not faithful to real life; i have never been to england; mutual pining; romantic comedy; minors dni.
the playlist | story tag
Prologue
Chapter 01 — Are you Tottenham in disguise?
Chapter 02 — There’s only one F in Fulham
Chapter 03 — No one can accuse me of diving because I can't even swim
Chapter 04 — A game of two halves
Interlude
Chapter 05 — Like a last minute own goal
Chapter 06 — A cold, rainy night in Stoke
Chapter 07 — Get the ball rolling
Chapter 08 — Shooting and Finishing
...
Between The Pages (blurb)
I Found You (valentine's day special)
#ruben dias#ruben dias fanfic#football fanfic#ruben dias fic#football fic#rúben dias#between the lines
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FOOTBALL (PLAYERS).
last updated: 9 december, 2023
JOÃO FÉLIX
'cause i miss you | joão félix
you and joão had been broken up for six months, and after finding out you were screwing a fellow laliga player, the jealousy comes seeping into his soul, as if you haven't been broken up for half a year
surprising joão with a basketful of candy after training (blurb)
jealous of joão's beauty (blurb)
both titles are self-explanatory (:
cristiano's daughter
joão steals your celebration as his way of telling you that goal was yours
CHRISTIAN PULISIC.
so aggressive
only christian pulisic knows how to neutralize his girlfriend
friends with benefits
what christian thought would be a lust-filled trip to ibiza... turned upside down.
PHIL FODEN.
pretty boy
city win the fa cup and you hug julian a liiiiittle bit too long for your boyfriend's liking
intrusive thoughts (coming soon!)
PABLO GAVI.
leo messi's daughter
gavi didn't really piece together that your dad is former barça player lionel messi... until he flew to paris to attend your birthday party
you're only nineteen (coming soon!)
RODRYGO.
vini jr's sister
rodrygo tries to stop himself from falling in love with his best friend vini's sister
the one where vini finds out
y/n and rodrygo break the news to vini
EMILE SMITH ROWE.
headcanons
headcanons of arsenal's number 10, the "croydon de bruyne"
first word
emile takes the night off to watch christian and emelia so you can have a girls' night out
arsenal's number ten
emile debuts as arsenal's number ten
parent-teacher conference
you and emile were invited to emelia's parent-teacher conference
purple
emile and arsenal have a london derby at home
don't let me go down
the three occasions where you notice emile is slowly slipping through your fingers
just wanna be yours
you and emile attend arctic monkeys' show at the emirates
afterglow
when it came to the third time you spiraled, emile doesn't let it go easily
GABRIEL MARTINELLI.
coming soon!
MARTIN ØDEGAARD.
20 questions
you and martin join gq in doing the famous '20 questions' video on yt
burning wheel
martin invites you and erling to arsenal's brand new training compound
told you so (coming soon!)
martin and his arsenal prove you wrong as they humiliate your team during pre-season
JUDE BELLINGHAM.
neymar's daughter
neymar flies to germany to meet jude... and you're caught up in between
madrid is waiting
jude announces to you that he'll be leaving for madrid in a week
RÚBEN DIAS.
que dupla
you and rúben feature on gq's couples quiz
drunkard or not
you volunteered to be rúben's babysitter after the treble parade
OTHER FOOTBALLERS.
saved me | richarlison
in which your guy best friend is an idiot and won't leave you alone, but richy has a boyfriend instinct
headcanons | enzo fernández
headcanons | leandro paredes
headcanons of the two world champions
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others !
i can see you (ben chilwell x coworker!reader)
after you lost your hotel room key you're forced to ask your friend ben to share his bed with you [wc: 1k]
soleil pluvieux (rúben dias x reader)
you never thought you'd be grateful for manchester's shitty weather, but that was before you met rúben at your usual bus stop [wc: ~680]
agora hills (joão félix x singer!reader) [smau]
you said you'd never show off your boyfriend ever again, but that was before you met joao
fake texts — #1
featuring: mason, trent, jude, pedri & dominik
dad!rúben blurb — #1
plastic off the sofa (gavi x reader)
moving with your boyfriend ignites an unexpected heart to heart discussion [wc: 0,6k]
cherry flavoured conversations (bsf!ferran x reader)
winter vacations with your best friend ferran turned out to be more exciting than usual (part of my 600 followers celebration <3)
meet me in the afterglow (ex!jamal musiala x reader)
in which, your ex boyfriend picking up his old stuff from your house doesn't go as planned (part of my 600 followers celebration <3)
crazy sexy dream girl (enzo fernandez x reader) [smut]
meeting up with your boyfriend's parents for his birthday is always nice, getting caught wouldn't be as nice (part of my 600 followers celebration <3)
sleepy kisses (noni madueke x reader)
in which, waiting for your boyfriend to come home after a much awaited victory is a much harder task then you thought
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Act One - Here We Go Again
Reader x Charles Leclerc Reader x Daniel Ricciardo Reader x Rúben Dias
AU - Aged Down!Daniel Ricciardo, (alternative universe), based on Mamma Mia!
Playlist
Writing Rule||Character List||Navigation||Masterlist
synopsis ⇢ She hasn’t seen the three males who could be the potential father of her nearly eight-year-old kid in nearly eight years. What happens when they all show up at her successful hotel in Skopelos after receiving invitations from her daughter?
summary is subject to change
main genres ⇢ exs to lovers, friends with benefits, single mother, unrequited love, love square, one-bed, brothers best friend, right person but wrong timing, second chance at love, soulmates,
↳ fluff, angst and smut are all included into this series
warning ⇢ explicit content, mature themes, strong language, mental health, injuries, alcohol,
↳ please refrain if you are sensitive to any of these themes. Please also keep in mind that not all warnings may be listed above - all warnings though fit into the series.
note ⇢ updates will be once a week, the day of the week has not been decided yet or what time it will come out on those days. Those will sorted once planning is completed. I’m hoping this will get me out of my many months worth of writes block :)
↳ to be informed when there’s an update, you can either turn @blueathens notifications on, or ask to be added to the series’ masterlist.
status ⇢ planning
act one blurb ⇢ To be written
o. chapter one - arriving soon-
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc imagines#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x y/n#ruben dias imagine#ruben dias#ruben dias imagines#ruben dias x reader#ruben dias x y/n#daniel ricciardo#daniel ricciardo imagine#daniel ricciardo imagines#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo x y/n#masterlist#f1 drivers masterlist#f1 masterlist#charles leclerc masterlist#daniel ricciardo masterlist#ruben dias masterlist#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fics#charles leclerc f1#charles leclerc fic#ruben dias fanfic#ruben dias fanfics#ruben dias fics#daniel ricciardo fanfics#daniel ricciardo fics
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You could write something like friends with benefits with Ruben Dias but he really falls in love w reader 😬 ? you can decide the rest just make it angst
you really can blame back to december (taylor's version) for this. who's ready?
saudade
(portugese) a deep emotional state of melancholic longing for a person or thing that is absent; desiderium.
it was a word rúben only learnt in front of his oldest flame. his favourite flame. however, between the two of them, did time heal everything?
rúben dias x doctor!reader
word count: 4.5k
prompts: above + summer fling + @julianalvarez9's post here (sorry, girlie, gotta twist your idea a bit)
tw: explicit foreplay but suggestive smut 👀
note: y'all can blame ms. swift's newly released album, okay? well, aside from the depressive mood lately and recent work stress, the particular song kickstarted me to write my arse off like i just broke up with my ex (when it's an old news already lol). but as usual, i happen to write this at dawn so not beta-read yet.
song: back to december + all too well
“oh, there she is!”
oh for the love of god, you know you were late, okay? when you hadn’t stopped running back and forth for two consecutive days straight to save everyone and their mother’s lives, it was pretty understandable to take the chance of hibernating the first thing you had a day off, right?
“after an eon of disappearing,” the groom—your favourite cousin but god did he love basking attention—raised his glass towards you, and you could only smile his way through the gritted teeth. “I’m glad you decide to grace us with you presence, Your Majesty.”
but of course your family wouldn’t understand that, for they lived a totally different lifestyle to yours, despite begging you to enrol yourself to the most prestigious medical school. ironic now that they were the ones who always begged you to come home when you felt like you’ve moved to your home the moment you got accepted to the most reputable cardiology and cardiothoracic department in the country.
so you smiled wider—for the appearance, of course—but you said nothing back.
you were still regulating your breaths, palpable by your huffs and puffs as you took the empty seat—god if the bridezilla got mad because you took the wrong seat, you’d fight her because it was already a sacrifice on your end to drag your ass to this weekend full of wedding festivities—and before you could do anything else, a glass of water was shoved your way gently.
“you look like you need one.”
you were not surprised by the voice. he sounded like he looked like—rough, buff, strong, bulk. you were rather surprised at the small smile thrown your way when he handed you the crystal, filled with clear liquid.
oh, the choice of drink, too, by the way. in a weekend that would soon be filled with endless flow of champagne and other alcoholic and questionable options, he chose still water.
realising you were still eyeing the glass in his hand, his demeanour changed slightly. “not a fan of water?”
“I thought you’re kind of a beer guy.”
your response sent him into a laughing fit because honestly, rúben was expecting you to throw a flirty banter. with an evening gown that rocked a thigh slit as high as the bride’s ego, you looked more ready to have some fun from the get-go.
but the sound of that deep, masculine laugh did wonders to you. heat immediately run through your entire body, and you immediately knew you liked it more than you thought you should because you kept wanting more. more of his laugh, more of his voice, more of his smiles, more of his scent. more of him.
“it’s too early for that, no?”
with the way he lifted his eyebrows teasingly, you almost questioned your decision to become a doctor. you’d definitely been missing out this special specimen beside you, due to burying yourself in between your patients’ body—literally, in order to save their lives. you really need to go out more often.
or maybe, you need to step up the game while you can before hospital took your fair share of fun as soon as you landed back home. shivers ran down the underside of your arms at the last thought.
fuck it, then. if there was one thing hospital taught you the hard way, it was to might as well enjoy things while it lasted.
you grabbed the glass of water from his hands—his skin felt exactly like it seemed—before signalling for two flutes of champagne. the server went to grab your request as you shoo away your thirst with the water and then proceeded to down the champagne when the server was back in the vicinity, all while never straying your eyes from his. “in Italy, nothing’s too early, no?”
and that was another laugh you’d come to like. god, if coffee did no longer work on your bloodstream, someone should get her that as her daily fix of adrenaline dose before her night shift started.
the man in front of you took his portion of champagne and said his thanks, his eyes held yours like there was no tomorrow. despite the roughness in his facial features, stubbles and all, his smile was warm. and for you, the whole combination was what made your knees weak.
how could someone look so sexy and smug in all his friendliness?
“it’s rúben, by the way.”
with the small smirk slowly tugging the corner of his lips as he sipped the champagne, rúben should really consider himself lucky you didn’t jump on him and replaced the crystal flute under his lips instead.
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despite your initial dislike towards the bride—purely because you thought she had a severe princess disease—you tried so hard not to rain in her parade. no matter what, it was still her special day, probably one she’d been dreaming since she was a toddler.
also, have you mentioned that the groom was one of your favourite person on earth?
so you didn’t even dare to move anywhere outside the safe sanctuary of your table because you knew you’d be bombarded by the elders for how rarely you showed your face again in family functions like these, or for how you could not even show up with a boyfriend in tow. amongst the lineage, you were the only one left without a lover or some sort, but instead of draining your energy to explain how exhausting it was to live so that other people can live too, you stayed put.
that, and the fact that rúben provided 1001 reasons why you should stay behind with him. yes, sexiness aside, you found yourself able to converse so many things outside the medical jargons and it kind of made you miss it—the ordinary life everyone else was leading. you missed talking about the latest blockbuster movie, you even missed wearing something else than the hospital scrub and your favourite crocs for more than 10 hours straight.
you even missed the flirting phase, thanks to rúben’s impeccable ability to chime in some subtle but straightforward seduction. rúben himself already exuded some hotness, his laugh and words managed to shoot some warmth throughout your body, and the champagne tripled the heat all over you.
rúben was only downing another glass of negroni and you were only watching the liquid move from his mouth to his throat, but you needed to excuse yourself. your brain was no longer cooperating with every other organ intact to your body—you couldn’t shouldn’t think all of these forbidden thoughts inside of your mind because rúben had been nothing but a gentleman, yet you were the one who kept wanting to cross the line.
yes, rúben might’ve dropped some not-so discreet touches down your arms, on top of your knees, under your knees. yes, he twirled with your unkempt hair, tucked them behind your ears. but the groom used to do that all the time with you, just to tease you around, so what made this time different?
“I thought you hit the jackpot or something.”
and there was rúben again, his voice matched the concern written all over his face. even in times like this, when her inside was a mess all over, rúben managed to think of her well-being. damn it, he really made it so hard for you to contain the burning desire.
there, she said it. desire—a word so foreign in her dictionary recently, for she’d momentarily lost her want to study the human anatomy since the moment she walked into this party late.
“what, you’d run away or something if I did?”
despite you hyperventilating earlier, as you ran towards a balcony of this huge Italian castle looking for air, you were sure rúben couldn’t see a trace of it anymore. you were already sporting the provocating look you’d come to realise only come into the surface when stirred right—aka only rúben managed to do so by far.
and only rúben could take the outmost pride in enticing such vixen from her hiding place. you wouldn’t have braved the face to sport such dangerous dress if you didn’t have the energy in you, and he was more than glad you ended up taking your seat beside his, despite knowing you were supposed to be seated somewhere else later into the night, for he could satisfy himself with the sly and slightly naughty look you only threw his way whenever he wanted.
he’d be the worst liar on this planet if he said he wasn’t tempted to kill distance between your lips and his, so many times tonight. but his father taught him courtesy, and to do such radical act in a room full of other people’s guests would be an insolence and disrespect to the bride and groom.
but now that the matter of prying eyes was gone…
“I’d brush your teeth, of course,” a small gasp from you didn’t escape his ears. “what do you take me for?”
you smiled but you were shaking your head disapprovingly as you folded your arms in front of you. “when are you going to stop being a gentleman, rúben?”
“why should I?” the man stepped closer to you, and you wished he was still wearing the dark blue vest because you certainly couldn’t handle those specs ghosting behind the white shirt. “do you want me to be a bad guy?”
but you couldn’t also deny you’d want to see those chiselled chest. combined with that smirk and fascinating kind of mirth dancing in his eyes, would you be dead and sent to heaven? “can you?”
you were both now so close, rúben only needed to lift your chin towards his face to claim your lips. “oh, is that a challenge?”
he could easily did, by the way, with the way your lips were gaping as soon as he gripped his chin gently. but he decided to tease you more, as his nose reached down to touch yours while his body pushed you to the railing, giving him the excuse to catch your body in his arms.
your brain was now completely unwired, your limb was moving the way rúben orchestrated yourself like a maestro to his favourite instrument. all you remembered was to hold on to the back of rúben’s neck and the side of his strong arm, as he gathered you in his sturdy embrace, and chanting don’t fall, don’t fall to your now-airhead.
when he finally tipped your chin to his desired angle and your lips caressed one another, your breath turned shaky and it gave him an immense sense of pride. he’d been wanting to have this, dropping hints here and there so you’d let yourself free of expressing your inner self, because he knew you wanted the same thing too.
“what do you want?”
if anyone went wet at his usual voice, wait until you heard this version of rúben.
you could already feel yourself turning into a weak excuse of a puddle. your brain was melting, your inside was evaporating.
“tell me what do you want, baby, and I’ll give ‘em to you.”
it wasn’t that you were shy to voice them, but it was because you couldn’t find the words. funny how you could read endless words and medical jargons and yet, gone was everything inside and outside of yourself, including your so-called dignity you were often praised for when you were doing your rounds, when he dropped the word baby to call you with.
so you raised yourself on your tiptoes and pushed yourself towards him.
“uh, oh,” damn it, you forgot he was a footballer. he was paid to use his reflexes on weekly basis. avoiding your advances were nothing against his job. “words, baby.”
“you,” you managed to breathe out the simplest word you could find in the currently short-circuited brain of yours, but the very word seemed to please the man, whose smirk went wider oh-so sexily. “want you, rúben.”
if it wasn’t for the fireworks going off at the background five minutes later, rúben would’ve succeeded in making you fall apart in record time. but rúben didn’t know the word give up so while he kept to himself for the remaining of the night, he’d come looking after you as soon as the party ended and everyone went back to their respective suites.
you, too, certainly didn’t see this coming. but when rúben immediately kissed you senselessly as soon as you opened the door—well, as soon as he pushed you inside and opened your pathetic excuse of bathrobe, that is—you weren’t complaining. you even helped him shed the rest of your fabrics before unbuttoning all of his, all without separating yourself from him, because the last time you did, you never got the chance to chase your high.
“but, rúben, tomorrow’s the wedding!” you squealed as he lifted your body, your legs immediately locked your position against the large man, as he walked you both to your bed. “we’re so gonna be late, rúben.”
he was peppering your neck with kisses as he placed you down the mattress, rousing giggles from your end. “that will give them a story to tell, no?”
“you’re crazy—oh, oh,” the crispiness of your laughter was interrupted by the sensation of rúben’s tongue devilishly sucking your sensitive spot. “oh, fuck! fuck, rúben, fuck!”
if his tongue wasn’t twirling the bruising skin so well to soothe the pain, you’d smack the smile you felt against your skin. “well, they say that what happens in Italy, stays in Italy.”
“I think you’re mistaken for what happens in las vegas, stays in las vegas—oh, fuck, rúben…! don’t fucking stop.”
“is that so?” oh, how dare he stop?! you sat up when rúben halted the wet ministrations of his tongue against your breasts, about to protest the footballer, when he pinched your budding nipples. your head immediately fell back to the pillow, surrendering yourself instead. “can’t seem to remember. you keep distracting me, meu anjo.”
the sensation of his warm saliva against the coldness of his fingers’ pads were unlike no other that you mewled out the loudest moan you’d ever done. so disgusting you had to bring down his lips towards you to shut yourself up. “should we go to las vegas instead?”
“tonight?” rúben popped a now-hardened nipple of yours, and the sight was definitely something you could not erase from your memory. “I can call my plane.”
“don’t tempt me, rúben, because we know this weekend is going to be boring from the looks of it.”
“let’s bring las vegas to us, then.”
long story short, rúben brought you las vegas and its glory every chance he got during the weekend.
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“must we go back to reality tomorrow?”
the giant central back chuckled at your submission. you were tucked under his arms, your fingers were drawing air on his chest, and somehow he knew you were pouting as you did so. it never ceased his wonder how you could be a temptress for a minute, then turned into a cutie-patootie—your words, not his—the next second.
it never ceased his wonder too as to how you’d always spurt out the same question all over again, every weekend you both got the chance to escape reality, despite knowing the definite answer of yes, we all have a life to lead tomorrow from him.
many of your colleagues had inquired about your relationship with the familiar face they’d seen over the weekend on their TV screens, but you didn’t know what to answer them. you were texting and flirting all the time but you were certainly wasn’t dating. you had sex, and you happened to repeat them whenever things got tough for either of you.
it was starting to become a vicious cycle, you and him. it was an impending doom, escaping the harsh reality only to seek for harsh and explosive sex instead of facing them head first.
he should’ve said no to every of your calls, but you crying over another life you failed to save wasn’t something in his card to ignore.
you should’ve said no to every of his calls, purely because you knew you were another rebound or another anger fuck from the losing game, but you didn’t have the energy in you to think of any reason to say no, not when you’ve racked your brain to save the failing life of your patients.
you both became a constant fixture, the only thing guaranteed good, when all else failed in your respective lives.
including the romantic aspect of your life.
but how could it not fail when rúben always picked up your calls when you had a bad day—that bad that you didn’t have the energy to have sex with him? he’d listened to you crying before stopping yourself, he’d listened to the silent you gave him because you were processing things. he’d listened to them all before offering to pick you up from work, no matter how stupid it looked like for him to slide in his vehicle at 5 in the morning when he had to be back at the training centre at 9 sharp.
when he couldn’t be around when you were having a mental breakdance, rúben would send you and your team a mini buffet for your lunch so you could share happiness the same way you shared him your devastation. so you could be back on your feet in no time because time is of essence for your job, your patients need you to be strong and healthy so they too could do and feel the same.
rúben—bless him—even spared his time to visit your patients when december came around the corner. he’d cheered them up, like the way he always did around you and for you, and even gave the kids and their caretakers gifts so they didn’t feel bored spending the festive holiday at the hospital. the next week, he brought over his entire football team just because one of the elder patients said he was a fan of his team.
he did all that, like a true gentleman you’d met the first time at your cousin’s Italian wedding, only to drop you the biggest nuclear bomb right on top of your head, right on christmas eve.
it was a dinner hosted by one of his teammates. he’d asked you to come because he knew you didn’t prepare for any last minute plan when your surgery schedule fell through—the patient died before you could save her—and thought the merry atmosphere would turn your sour mood to a better one.
you, from the beginning, didn’t want to go because you didn’t feel like intruding. and maybe, you shouldn’t have come.
the host, rúben’s captain, asked what kind of relationship you both were having, just as you were about to call for the men to join the women in the kitchen because the food were all ready to be served by now. but you never joined either side because of rúben’s answer.
“I’m getting married,” you remembered vividly. “she was nothing but a good fuck.”
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but that was—what, five years ago?
you’d moved on with life, and that included moving far away from home to london. you obtained your specialist degree and was now under the tutelage of the best cardiovascular professor in town. you were often credited as prof. nagelsmann’s golden child because of how much the professor adored you, for your vast knowledge and eagerness to learn, as well as your hardworking attitude.
if people knew that you were studying till you broke your neck and had constant nosebleed till exhaustion took over your body at first only to put your mind somewhere else…
well, they didn’t need to know that. people only needed to know that you lived and breathed for the hospital now, because you’d now come to terms that life and death was two of the things that you were sure of to happen. nothing else were as definite as those two.
well, maybe also the jinx when you stashed away your hospital scrub for ordinary clothing as you clocked out of your shift.
as soon as your junior called your name, just five steps beyond the hospital territory, not even your car in sight yet, you knew you had to go back inside and save your kdrama marathon for another time. “code blue?”
your junior nodded and immediately jumped to describe the dire emergency. you were also handed the patient’s medical record. “male, 35 years old with CoA[1]. his stent’s infected so we have to do replacement but his CT scan shows hemothorax[2] and raptured aorta as well.”
your legs wanted to give away when your eyes spotted the name.
it’s ivan dias.
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rúben couldn’t believe his eyes.
there you were, explaining the whole procedure his brother would be going through. clad in your hospital scrub with no make-up, you were still as beautiful as he’d remembered. not even signs of time grazing your skin, as if the cold temperature of the operating theatre froze away the concept of time from your face.
your natural look was what initially drew him into you. in a room full of people caking their faces in the latest make-up trend, you definitely stood out in his eyes. you even outshone everyone else, including the bride, if he was being honest. and when he found out you were more than a pretty face, it didn’t take him another minute to settle his decision to make you stay behind in the table with him, so no one else could take you far away from him.
possessive, people would say to him. a trait he thought he’d hated in everyone else, but a trait that turned out to be something that showed up only whenever you were concerned.
but god, did rúben want you. so bad he felt like he could kill anyone else who casted you a seductive glance, despite you not acknowledging them.
and it made him hate himself because he was turning to be everyone else he’d come to hate. he didn’t want to be selfish, he didn’t want to push everyone else for what he solely wanted. he didn’t want you all for himself—he shouldn’t want you all for himself.
you both were only friends after all.
at least, that was rúben used to think of. because who the hell listened to another person crying for hours, if not for friends? who the hell picked up another person at 5 in the morning, if not for friends? who the hell reminded another person to eat so they could take care of their patients, if not for friends?
so he did everything he could, including dating around till he painted the town as red as the possessiveness he wished to hide, in hope he could diminish this niggling feeling that was bothering him day and night. he sought help and read endless books, just so he could validate the peculiar emotions he was feeling, that only vanished when you were around.
but nothing satisfied him. nothing was the answer to his long-standing question. even when he decided to jump the big gun and got married with someone else that didn’t even understand a simple arithmetic question, rúben still felt the gnawing hole inside of him, that was still thirsty of something he didn’t know of.
the hole grew into a big, black, gaping hole as his marriage went on. the hole even swallowed the existence and the idea of the two of them, the couple that could perfectly plaster the covers of bridal vogue, into a mere memory, burned to ashes and blown to the sky.
even then, too, rúben only wanted to see you. because being around you always brought strange waves of calmness to him.
so he did, only to find you go off the grid for good. he’d asked for you to everyone he knew and everyone he thought could possibly knew of your existence, to no avail. he’d thought of going to your home and asked to your parents but he decided to go against it because he respected you and your decision—he always does from the first moment he met you.
he remembered he didn’t even want to touch you until you succumbed yourself entirely to his palm, and he promised you he’d do that and he intended to keep his end of words, be it when you were around or not. he could only pray to God to meet you again in due time and course, when you were ready to see him again.
but now… god, did he want to scream out loud in happiness. you were still as gentle as ever, having handled fragile lives in your hands of both the parents and the guardians. your voice still reminded him of an umbrella under a blazing hot day, as you elaborated ivan’s condition to his parents. your hands still reminded him of a silk handkerchief tucked properly under one’s suit, as you touched his parents in reassurance.
only then did he realise that this sharp feeling inside of him, only you could provoke such intense emotions like a dagger stab to his heart, was longing.
he’d longed to have you in his arms again, despite having you there all his previous times with you. he’d longed to have you around him again, despite being around you. no distance was still a distance per his standard. and he realised he’d made the biggest mistake by not proclaiming you when he had the chance.
fuck possessiveness, he wanted you back.
after all these years, he still wanted you so bad.
“I knew you’d succeed,” rúben sat down with two cans of your choice of beer. “I haven’t had the chance to congratulate you. congratulations, by the way.”
“thank you,” while you flashed him a smile, you smiled rather awkwardly and scooted further away from him. like you were scared of him. like a child was scared of what a stranger had in their hands. “i—”
he didn’t like that you were getting further away from his reach. he couldn’t launch his old moves on you again if you did. “I hope you still like Budweiser.”
“I do, but I’m sorry, do I know you?”
but it seemed like he’d lost you now, the way he’d lost you years ago.
[1] coarctation of aorta; a birth defect in the aorta, where it is far narrower than normal, blocking the blood flow to the body. on severe cases, it is so narrow that it can back up the blood flow to the left ventricle, forcing the muscle there to work twice as hard in order to distribute blood the way it’s supposed to be.
[2] hemothorax; a presence of blood is detected between the chest wall and the lungs. commonly, may be caused by blunt trauma or by complication of a disease.
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