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melanieph321 · 2 months

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Ruben Dias/Trent Alexander Arnold x Reader - Dark Rivarly Part 7/15

Part 8 and 9 are already out on my Patreon for FREE!

Reader is Trent Alexander Arnold's twin sister. The two have been inseparable since childbirth, more so now when Reader is fresh out of university looking for a job, crashing at her brother's place whilst doing so. One day Reader gets a job offer that she cannot refuse, however it would mean working for her brother's biggest rival in football, Ruben Dias.

Enjoy!

London Fashion Week.

Ruben was attending a couple of shows for the weekend and booked for you to come along with him. He had you staying in a five star hotel. Separate rooms, of course. The moment you shared in Grandma's shop was passionate and true, however Ruben respected your request to keep things professional if you were to work form him, making yourself off limits to having any sexual relationship with him. Besides, you didn't want to do his assistant the honors of saying, I told you so. Miranda was already on your case as she too attended the fashion week with you and Ruben. She was determined to make sure that you didn't make Ruben look bad by dressing him in rabbit fur or something.

"What about this one?" You said, spreading out a second outfit on Ruben's hotel bed. The three of you had gathered in his room, finalizing what he should wear to the show that he was attending this afternoon. But per usual, Miranda disapproved of all of your decisions.

"It's too brown." She complained.

"Right." You nodded. "And by that you mean what exactly?"

Miranda looked at you fretfully, but she did owe you a factual explanation.

"It's too country." She shrugged. "I know it's a Louis Vuitton, but come on, who wears a leather jacket to a fashion show?"

You crossed your arms. "Ruben will."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, when I ask him. Ruben!" You called him into the room. "Can you come here for a second?"

The door to the bathroom slid open and Ruben stepped out with wet hair and a towel wrapped dangerously low around his waist. "What's up?" His head shifted between you and Miranda.

"Quick question." You said, stepping forwards. "Which outfit do you prefer to wear for the show this afternoon, this one or that one?" You pointed to the clothes on the bed.

Ruben's eyebrows furrowed, looking to ponder the question. You looked at Miranda who's eyes were already narrowed at you in suspicion.

"I dunno?" Ruben chuckled. "Which outfit do you want me to wear? They both look fine to me but you're the stylist."

"Agreed." You said. "I'm thinking the brown Louis jacket with all black underneath."

"Cool." He smiled.

"But a brown leather jacket to a fashion show, come on Ruben" Miranda protest altered Ruben's return to the bathroom. But then he glanced at you, his expression softening. "If Y/N thinks it's good, then it's good."

You exhaled in relief once the bathroom door closed behind him.

"Just know...." Miranda warned you, her face red underneath all of that pale foundation. "....anything bad written about Ruben this weekend and I'm blaming you."

You rolled your eyes as she left the room. You did a little happy dance on the carpet to celebrate the small victory. Just then the bathroom door slid open again, Ruben stiffening in the frame, his eyes laced with amusement. "Everyone's enjoying themselves I see."

"Oh my god, Ruben. I'm...."

"More than welcome to keep dancing if you want to." He laughed.

Heat rose to your face. You crumbled with embarrassment. "It's just that....it's just that Miranda..."

"I know, I know. She can be a bit of a pain in stressful situations." He pushed off the wall that he had been leaning against and walked towards the bed, grabbing the black shirt that would go with his outfit. You unremorsfully watched him get dressed. And Ruben had the audacity to drop the towel wrapped around his waist, simultaneously looking you in the eye. You turned your head towards the windows, not giving him the pleasure of seeing you blush. Once he wore pants again you grabbed a roller and started nipping away little dust particles that might have stuck to his shirt, helping him look flawless ahead of the show.

"I'll be back around lunchtime." He said, as you circulated him with the roller. "I was thinking that I should take you out for lunch. I have a friend who owns this art gallery that we can go to."

"Ruben." You stop nipping dust off his shirt, raising your head to look at him. "That sounds lovely, really."

"But?" He said, knowing that it was coming.

"But..." You sighed. "I think it's a bit inappropriate for me and you to have lunch together."

He chuckled. "It's just lunch Y/N. Everyone has to eat, no?"

"Maybe. But taking me to an art gallery at the sametime sounds more like a date, don't you think?"

"Call it what you want." He shrugged. "A date, a none date. I just want the pleasure of treating you to a nice meal as thank you for your hard work."

"You can thank me by paying me Ruben."

A moment of silence.

"Y/N?" His hand cupped your chin, raising it for you to look at him again. His kind eyes lit a fire within you, a fire that you were more than afraid to express. "Please join me for lunch." He smiled, perhaps well aware of what he was doing to you.

"Okay." You surrendered.

His smile widened. Just as he brought your lips forwards there was a cough.

"Miranda!"

She stood by the door, looking less than pleased at the sight of you and Ruben, standing so close. "The car is downstairs." She said, acknowledging Ruben, ignoring you.

He cleared his throat. "Right. I'll go grab my phone."

With that the two of them left, leaving you to explore London in the meantime.

You went on a light shopping spree, less compulsive compared to your university days. Right around lunchtime you received a text from Ruben, air dropping you the address to his friends art gallery. You arrived before him, with the gallery only having a few visitors for the hour. Your attention had been glued to a peculiar painting when there was a tap on your shoulder.

"Hey. Sorry I'm late." It was Ruben, with two Subway sandwiches in his hands. "I also got you a lemonade. I wasn't sure if you drank soda with your food. I don't."

"Thank you Ruben, lemonade is fine."

He sat down next to you on the bench placed just in front of the painting you had been regarding. It was massive, almost covering the entire wall.

"Do you like it?" Ruben asked, taking a bite of his sandwich.

"What is it supposed to resemble?"

Perhaps that's the reason why you were drawn to it in the first place. It had bright colors that formed an abstract pattern across the canvas. The painting was called City of Love but the painting resembled nothing of Paris, the actual city of love. Nor did it resemble any actual landscape on this planet earth.

"That's for you to decide." Ruben said. He continued to explain his friend's intentions with the painting, that it was about the importance that the eyes of the beholder had on art culture. That art only meant something when the audience felt like it meant something.

"So it's what I make it to be?"

Ruben nodded. "Anything you like. For instance I think it's a tale of two lovers struggling to find each other amongst a city full of lovers."

You frowned. "A bit far fetched, don't you think?"

Ruben shrugged. "It's how I interpret it."

"Hmm."

"Can't you see them." Ruben leaned closer, attempting to pinpoint where to find the lover and his beloved amongst the splashes of color on the canvas. "He's right there." He whispered. "Waiting for her to accept his love and run into his arms."

"And is she?" You asked, Ruben's breath warm against your ear.

"You tell me?"

You chuckled, but regarded the painting thoughtfully. "I don't think she's running Ruben."

"No? What is she doing then?"

"She's taking her time, I suppose. When the time is right they'll find each other. Then she'll be in his arms."

"That's...."

"There you are!"

You jumped in your seat as a voice approached you from behind. You turned around to see a well dressed man, beaming from ear to ear as he approached you and Ruben. "I thought you said you were too busy to come visit me during London's most lucrative weekends?"

"I'm here aren't I?" Ruben stood up to embrace his friend.

"And I see you brought a friend, a beautiful one at that." He looked down at you with his sparkling blue eyes. "Hello love. I'm John, John Stones."

"My teammate." Ruben said, as he watched the two of you shake hands.

You knew who the man was, you knew of all of the City Players. Your family would usually curse their names whenever Man City played Liverpool.

"Yes, but unlike Ruben, I'm not so into the sharades that fashion week brings." John winked. "I'm only here to promote the art that's been coming through my gallery. It's a perfect time to throw an exclusive party whilst all celebrities are in town. Apparently people are dying to get an invite to the party tonight. You're both invited of course."

"A party?" You turned to Ruben. "I thought I was dressing you for another show?"

Ruben looked at you, a flash of guilt in his eyes. "I asked Miranda to cancel my invite. John has been asking me to see his gallery in London for years, now is finally my chance. I hope you understand."

"I understand." You smiled. "But what are you planning on wearing?"

"I dunno, this?" Ruben down on his current outfit.

"Nah, ah, over my dead body."

"What?"

"You have to change." You said. "Miranda will kill me if she finds out I let you wear the same outfit twice in one day, during fashion week of all places. No, we are going back to the hotel to change, immediately."

"Better listen to your girl Ruben." John laughed.

Ruben chuckled as he let you drag him out of his friends gallery, not letting go of his hand until you reached the hotel.

***********************************

You arrived at the gallery four hours later, by then night had fallen with a lot of well dressed people now queuing to get into Ruben's friends art gallery. You wore one of the tops you had bought during your shopping spree. It was cute but not nearly as fashionable as what the people around you were wearing.

"Champagne?" A waiter offered. You gladly accepted the flute, surprised to see that a whole catering company had been hired for the evening. The gallery was getting crowded with people you recognized as professional football players, celebrities and their dates for the evening.

"Wow, Johnny really went all out for the night." A young man said, approaching you and Ruben. You recognized him as another Man City player, Nathan Ake was his name.

"He really cares about his art." Ruben nodded. As the guys continued to make small talk you took the opportunity to slip away.

"Fuck me." You sighed, grabbing your coat, desperate for some fresh air. Apparently you took a wrong turn somewhere and ended up at a Man City meet and greet. All the players were here to watch John's art, all of whom you recognized and some that might recognize you as.....

"Y/N?"

"Trent?"

You were moving towards the exit, now hyperventilating for a sip of air, when the person holding up the door for you turned out to be none other than your twin brother.

"Trent? What are you doing here?"

"What do you mean?" He smiled, both happy and surprised to see you. "I was invited. What about you?"

"I...."

This was not good, not good at all.

"I'm working as a stylist Trent, I told you that. By whom exactly were you invited?"

"What do you mean, by whom? John Stones, of course."

"You know John? How?"

Trent snorted. "What do you mean how, we've played on England's men's team for years now, haven't we? Why do you ask, didn't he recognize you?"

"Me? Why would he....?" Had the two of you met before?

"Fuck."

"Wow, you good sis? You look amazing by the way."

"Trent, can you get me out of here?"

"Um, why, do you feel sick?" He tilted his head to check on you.

"Yes, that's why I need to get back to my hotel."

"Um, sure. Just a sec, let me say hello to John first."

"No!" You exclaimed, like a crazy person. "There is no time."

Trent looked taken aback, but snorted. "Of course there is, I'll be quick. Look, there he is, let me just...."

"Trent no..." Your eyes widened with panic seeing John's tall figure heading your way. "I'm on my period please, I need to get back to my hotel quickly."

Trent seemed conflicted. He had arrived with a friend but nodded for him to go ahead without him. "Okay, let's go. I'll take you back to your hotel."

"Thank you."

It was a disaster avoided. There was no need for Ruben to know who you really were, at least not now. Things were perfect now. Telling him the truth might change things. From your experience it often did.

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