#ruben dias drabbles

[oh-saints]

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.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

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

[zoyasribbon]

DOMESTIC DELIGHTS — r. dias

ೃ࿐ summary : The moments spent with your family, they are the most precious in your life, a pure delight that bring solace to your soul. And on this specific Sunday afternoon, this one, you are poised to savor every bit of it.

ೃ࿐ words : 0,7k.

ೃ࿐ genre : mature. fluff. suggestive.

ೃ࿐ warning : cute daughter-father moments, sexual tension.

ೃ࿐ author's note : Despite my deep disdain for Man City (while I do acknowledge Pep's genius football philosophy), I must confess—I find myself particularly attracted to some players... and a certain 6’2 Portuguese center-back has managed to steal my heart. Ugh, what can I sayyyyy, what can I sayyyyy.

You were drawn by the soft, deep chuckles emitted by your husband, guiding you towards the entrance of the living room, where you discreetly pushed the door ajar. 

There he was.

Rúben. 

Dressed in his black Puma sweatpants and a simple, white undershirt, he was doing push-ups with your little daughter perched on his broad, muscular back. Her cheerful, high-pitched voice counted his progress as he effortlessly raised and lowered his body multiple times. You observed them tenderly: the pure joy and trust of your child blending with Rúben's extraordinary strength and patience. Home.

If he noticed you leaning against the doorframe, he said nothing... and you couldn’t help but admire his new three-day stubble beard, a bit more developed than usual, complementing his charming face. 

Suddenly, he twisted to one side, landing on the floor while effortlessly lifting your excited little girl with his sturdy arms before gently placing her on his firm stomach. A timid chuckle escaped your lips at this heartwarming sight. But this gesture didn't deter him from maintaining a somewhat intense gaze that met yours, igniting a fire within you.

"Go play in the garden, princesa. I'll do a few more and then join you," he murmured, planting a tender kiss on her forehead. As his words prompted her to dash out of the room, flashing you a mischievous smile in passing, the room fell into an almost oppressive silence. Only Rúben's erratic breathing and the sudden accelerated beats of your heart seemed to animate the space. 

He eventually raised himself from the floor, taking his sweet time to stand, his brown eyes never leaving your burning gaze for a second. 

Rúben's smile took on a different shade as he crossed the room to approach you, leaving only a few brief inches between you. His arms, marked by the effort, found support on the wooden doorframe, not far from your head, asserting his dominance in height. 

In the depth of his gaze, you discerned the glint of a tantalizing promise.

"You didn't have to stop, you know?" you innocently scolded, letting your right hand wander from his neck, to his left flank and to his hip. You made sure your nails lightly grazed his skin through the thin white fabric, intending for him to feel your provocation. As you did, you sensed a trickle of sweat dampening his shirt, clinging to his still-toned abs, evidence of his numerous push-ups. 

In just a few seconds, his body responded. Engulfed in goosebumps that hinted at desire, Rúben's eyelids trembled, and his Adam's apple bobbed. Though your line of sight didn't reveal it, you were certain that his fingers fervently clutched the doorframe, evidenced by the emerging veins on his glistening shoulders. 

He was on the verge of losing control. The mere thought elevated the corner of your lips into a sly smile, concealing the pleasure you took in this little teasing game. You must admit, you were very in the mood to play today. After all, Rúben simply had no business being so sexy on this delightful spring afternoon. 

Your right hand, still placed on his hip, dared to venture even further beneath the fabric of his black tracksuit to bring him even more closer to you and explore the skin of his lower back and his firm bottom, leading him to open his mouth slightly, letting out a timid gasp. 

Unable to resist the excruciating slowness of your caresses, he leaned forward, daring “Why? Do you want to keep watching?” he managed to inquire with an innocent tone, though mischief lingered within. 

His alluring, plump lips so close to yours beckoned, yet you resisted the temptation they promised... at least for the moment. You knew what he expected from you at this moment, but you just wouldn't comply. You were far too determined to win this battle. 

Nevertheless, the warm breath escaping his mouth was enough to slightly distract you. In that moment, you even forgot your somewhat disheveled appearance—your hair was in a messy bun, and you still had your apron on, still warm from the breath of the oven you had opened to check the crumb-topped salmon you were preparing. 

This seemed not to bother Rúben, whose gaze remained just as fiery and thirsty. His fingers sought revenge, gently sweeping aside a loose strand of hair that had fallen during your observation, trailing across your cheek, your neck, before finally resting on your nape. Then his entire hand delicately settled upon it. Your eyes were nearly completely mesmerized by the movement of his lips. Ruben's voice became huskier and smoother. “Or maybe you want a turn too."

#neima’s writing #ruben dias #ruben dias fic #ruben dias x you #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias fanfic #Ruben dias one shot #ruben dias drabble #ruben dias imagine #premier league #manchester city #football x you #football x reader #man city #man city fanfic #football fanfic #football oneshot #footballer one shot #footballer fic #footballer x reader

[trcpicoz]

𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐌𝐞?

masterlist

a/n: just something cute but also super hot and kinda short, this idea just came to out of the blue and i had to write about it because it’s so hot and sweet to me.

summary: rúben returns from his ucl away game and catches you touching yourself when he gets home early

warnings: smut, masturbation f, fingering

whenever ruben went to away games for the champions league it was the absolute worst for you. just dealing with not having your boyfriend to cuddle with every night and comfort you was awful but the worst part was not getting to feel him inside of you. the sex between you and ruben was so special and he made it so romantic that it felt like more than just pleasure it was his favorite way to connect with you.

it was the middle of the afternoon and you were watching highlights of the game from the night before. ruben looked so sexy, so sexy to point where he was irresistible. you saw him and got wet immediately, you were actually confused because you’ve never felt this horny for him but you also didn’t go this long without his skin on yours. you decided enough was enough and went to your bedroom, you took off your panties and inserted your fingers inside slowly fucking your pussy just like ruben did. you played with your clit and nipples imagining it was ruben doing these things to you while saying nasty words and praising you in your ear “i love stretching you out meu princesa you’re so perfect”.

you were so wrapped up in touching yourself that you didn’t even hear ruben enter the house. he walked in and saw the tv on but he didn’t hear or see you so he walked up to your bedroom. he heard you groaning and immediately got worried so he rushed to the door only to realize those were moans of pleasure so he creeped up to the open doorway and stood there watching you finger yourself. he stood there getting hard and stroking himself over his pants. you increased the speed and intensity just like ruben would do and you came letting out a moan even the neighbors this hear you.

you were trying to catch your breath when you heard his voice “did you miss me princesa?” you jumped and immediately hid under the sheets “how long were you standing there?” ruben laughed at how embarrassing you were and to be honest he thought it was adorable “i stood here when i could hear you getting close so i figured ‘why not enjoy the show?’” you rolled your eyes as ruben got under the covers and started stroking his cock “now that i’m here do you want to feel the real thing or keep playing make pretend like you don’t have a tall, hot, sexy-” you playfully slapped his shoulder and laughed “boy shut the fuck up” you straddled him “if you want me to shut up you’ll have to make me” you shut him in way you knew best, a deep tongue filled kiss.

#ruben dias #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias fluff #ruben dias x y/n #ruben dias smut #ruben dias x you #ruben dias imagine #footballer x reader #footballer imagine #hot footballers #footballer fic #footballer fluff #footballer x y/n #footballer smut #footballer x you #footballer drabble

[thatsdemko]

cookies -r.dias

warnings: not intended for minors + some spelling/grammar errors

a/n: idk what compelled me to write this but enjoy

whisking batter, soft incoherent noises in the background, you’re buried deep into your thoughts. the ovens preheating, the dough is ready to be made it into cookies, and Ruben dias is just arriving home from practice.

he’s not quiet with his arrival, he never is, but that’s what makes him unique. he turns down the long hallway and into the kitchen to find a beautiful sight; you in a red lacy nightie.

the smell of brown sugar and the sweetness of chocolate chips seems to fade into the back of his mind while another sense comes into the forefront of his mind: pleasure. it’s not one of the six senses, but damn it should be with the way his cock is pulsating in his athletic shorts.

he doesn’t say a thing, and he doesn’t need to. just presses his palm against your ass, thumb strumming the intricate details of the lace. a soft hum escapes your lips, you bend your body into a forward fold, back straightened, hands pressed into the cold granite counter. he takes this as a sign of consent, dropping his pants down to his ankles.

his two thumbs on each cheek, he spreads them with not even a lift of his finger before entering. you’re not sure if it’s all of him. to be fair, it never is, but with tonight’s sighting he’s sure to see what you can take making him feel such a way.

your eyes shut, heart thumping against your chest, you feel his cock pumping inside you, each stroke becoming more powerful and aggressive as he digs deeper.

no words are exchanged, just heavy breathing. he watches your fingers turn white, your grip is becoming loose against the counter, his cock dripping in your wetness as he inches himself further inside until you’re babbling words that just aren’t even anything. he chuckles to himself, your bodies are like one, he can feel your clit trembling at his touch, your legs shake with each earth shattering movement.

you’re sure you’ve come by now, but that doesn’t stop him. not even the sound of the oven up to temperature, not even him breaking a sweat stops him. it’s not until he finally comes that pulls back, and steps away.

“you up for some cookies?” you muster up the words, they slide soft off your tongue as you turn around to face him. your tits are fallen out of the cups, your face is glistening with sweat and somehow that makes his cock wet all over again.

“I could eat,” he pauses for a second wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, “but I really only want to eat you.” his fingers dig into your hips, he slides you up onto the counter and spreads your legs up over his shoulders.

the slightest touch of him sends your head slamming into the cupboard, a moan escapes your lips as he tongue cleans your inner thighs. he’s good with everything, but his tongue is the hottest part of him. the burn of his cheeks against your skin, the hot breath that fills you up, and the softness of his tongue, it could all send you overboard.

his tongue inches inward, expanding your folds and your entrance. you feel the need to clamp around him, claim him as your only source of energy, but your body shakes. you can’t get a grip on him and he just keeps exploring further into he’s hit your clit once again. the spot washes you with pleasure, your body shakes like it did before, and his face is covered in you. every inch.

“dessert is served.” you breath outward, it’s heavy and uneasy,you watch him lick himself clean like s man hungry for more.

“better than cookies.”

#ruben dias #ruben dias x you #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias x y/n #ruben dias smut #ruben dias fanfic #ruben dias fic #ruben dias one shot #ruben dias drabble #ruben dias imagine #football smut #football imagine #football fanfic #football fic #football x you #football x y/n #football x reader #football imagines #football fluff #football oneshot #football drabble #manchester city #man city #football one shot #footballer x you #footballer x y/n #footballer one shot #footballer x reader

[footballffbarbiex]

Is it too late to request Ruben Dias with baby daddy ‘pumpkin picking’ please? Maybe you’re all out picking with your eldest child & heavily pregnant with the second. Ruben gets a bit sassy and reader threatens to attach a pumpkin to Ruben (like the viral watermelon videos of dads-to-be having them taped to them) and he soon goes back to being fluffy?

from this list.

sorry this is a bit later than planned, but i hope you like it!

-

each step brings a low, dull ache in your lower back and a splintering pain across your hips which only slows you down further than the waddle that you're now doing. it doesn't make it any easier with the ground now drenched from the last few nights rainfall and your feet threaten to slip out from beneath you with each squelchy step. even as you cart the wheelbarrow which helps to keep you the right way up.

Rúben walks ahead with your daughter, both of them managing to stay upright better than you, though she is supported by her daddy. her wellington boots have a thick layer of sludge going up past the rubber soles like a thick layer of icing upon a birthday cake. but he makes sure that she never falls, that even when she begins to lose her footing, that he's right there to give her her confidence back as he helps her regain her balance. she looks so small next to him and yet, she was growing up far too quickly. everything, physically, about her was Rúben and it made it far too easy for him to sweet talk you into having another baby.

he had promised that the first weekend when they were both available, he would take her pumpkin picking. she'd seen pictures from her friend's and acknowledged her jealousy, asking repeatedly why they were able to go but she wasn't. Rúben hated to see his little girl upset, especially for something that was so easy to fix.

several other families mill around, some slipping and sliding and no doubt seeing their life flash before their eyes as they begin their downward journey into the dirt. the sun seems brighter, imitating the way winter sun blinds, though it probably doesn't help that it's cutting through a veil of fog which hangs over the fields, leaving the scene before you all to feel incredibly spooky. you half expect to find a scarecrow to be hung up with a pumpkin head carved with a menacing smile as an attraction to take pictures with.

"mummy is a slowpoke," Rúben says loud enough for you to be able to hear, deliberately turning his head to ensure it reaches you as far back as you are. she giggles, betraying you in the process, and begins to chant "slowpoke" as she bends over to examine a pumpkin before deciding that it's not the one for her.

"come on mummy," he laughs as he begins to run in slow motion, "lets have a race, see if she can catch us." he says, encouraging the mini version of himself. she eagerly agrees, traitor, and begins to mimic him while squealing "catch us mummy" over and over.

Rúben's happy smile quickly disappears as he catches your expression and he gulps as you approach.

"what was that?"

"nothing," he feigns innocence.

"daddy says you're slow." your daughter says as she approaches with a small, but to her a large, pumpkin in her hands. it's dirty, the mud clings to her small hands but she looks super proud of her find as she rolls it into the wheelbarrow.

"keep speaking like that honey," you say, your words dripping with sweetness as you give him a smile just as sickly, "and you'll find yourself picking out an extra large pumpkin to strap to your stomach while i zap you with a TENS machine to see how a tiny bit of this feels."

"that sounds like fun." he grimaces, "but i'll, respectfully, pass. hey sugarplum, do you want to show me those big muscles of yours and maybe help mummy push this wheelbarrow while i help her walk along?" he asks, squatting down to her level and using a calming voice.

she immediately lifts her arms to flex her biceps and show that she's capable of it while he steps to your side and wraps an arm around your lower back.

"good choice Dias, good choice."

#ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias x you #ruben dias fluff #ruben dias blurb #ruben dias drabble #ruben dias fanfic #football imagine #football one shot #footballer imagine #footballer one shot #football blurb #football fanfiction

[leviscolwill]

soleil pluvieux

pairing: rúben dias x reader

summary: 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]

contents: strangers to ??? (🤭), just fluffy stuff

note: i should be writing the 16839 wips i've started but this idea was too irresistible not to write... also i'm aware ruben would not take the bus but he's doing it for the plot 🙄

now playing: soleil pluvieux by yvnnis (novae)

your friends would describe you as a control freak, but it wasn't totally true. you just liked to have your life together and fully organised.

but one of the very few things you couldn't control in your life was the weather. for example, you couldn't predict that this sunny day would be darkened by rainy clouds. because that was the weatherman's job, something he couldn't do properly, it seemed. so here you were, in your pretty sundress, getting rained on, on what was supposed to be a perfectly sunny day.

you mentally cursed the weatherman as you arrived at your bus stop, noticing your next bus to be in 12 minutes. enough time to get completely soaked by the time you get home, you thought.

you sensed someone stilling next to you, and the rain suddenly stops. you look up, only to meet eyes with the stranger. a tall man, with brunette hair and charming brown eyes, sharing half of his umbrella with you.

"i thought you might appreciate a break from the rain." he told you looking deep into your eyes.

for some reason, you were taken aback by his voice and his accent. you weren't one to lose your bearings often, but something about him made you stumble on your words.

"you would be right... i guess. i mean you would be right about that, getting rained on is never nice so..." it felt like the words were tripping out of your mouth and lost all their meanings.

the stranger chuckled, a beautiful sound, one you would want to listen to forever you thought.

"i'm rúben, and you are..?"

you gave him your name in something that resembled a whisper, but somehow rúben understood you, saying your name back, mostly to himself.

"pretty name." you felt your cheeks heat up at his comment.

"do you usually carry an umbrella everywhere you go ?" you were taken aback by his flirty manners and the way his eyes looked so intently into yours, tracing their way to your lips once in a while. so you tried to put him on the spot as well.

but rúben simply laughed, a loud and hearty laugh that surprised you more than your question surprised him.

"it's manchester, you should always have your umbrella ready."

he was right, manchester's weather was unpredictable. and you carried your umbrella with you whenever you felt the day was about to turn rainy, but today was supposed to be a sunny day, in your mind at least.

"i suppose you're right..." you grumbled, if there was one thing you hated, aside from untrustworthy weathermen, it was being wrong.

"my bus should be here soon... can i give you my phone number ?"

once again, you were confused by the brunette. usually, people would ask for your number, not the other way. this time, rúben put you out of your misery and explained himself.

"in case you need someone to share their umbrella with you one day, and maybe we could get a coffee or whatever you like really."

for the first time since rúben spoke to you, he seemed a little flustered. his cheeks were reddening by the second and his eyes left yours to look at his shoes.

you handed him your phone with a smile as he quickly wrote his name and number in your contacts as he saw his bus coming.

he gave you a quick smile, handing back your phone. he got on the bus and that's when you realised he also gave you his umbrella.

when you looked over at him in surprise, you were met by his pretty smile and a cute wave.

you had a smile glued to your face on your way home thinking about today's funny and unexpected encounter.

once you were finally home you snapped a quick photo of the umbrella and sent it to rúben with a text.

i guess i'm the one who has to share the umbrella now.

#rushed the ending a bit ngl #might write a pt2 idk yet #hope you like ittttt #ruben dias #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias one shot #ruben dias fluff #ruben dias fanfic #ruben dias blurb #ruben dias x you #football drabble #football one shot #football fanfic #footballer imagine #football imagine #football x reader

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

under the mistletoe | rúben dias

⭐️ synopsis: At a Christmas party, two people share a kiss under the mistletoe. warnings: just pure fluff, christmas drabble, 400 words

| listen to my christmas playlist |

I had been working for Manchester City for a couple of years and it was my second time being invited to the club’s Christmas party. I glanced at the invitation with a mix of reluctance and resignation; another year, another forced celebration. But hey, 'tis the season, right?

As I stepped into the festively adorned venue, the air was thick with the scent of wine and the sound of laughter. My colleagues' chatter blended with the lively notes of a familiar holiday tune. I wondered if I could sneak out early, but the promise of an open bar was enough to persuade me.

The night unfolded, and against my better judgment, I found myself with a glass of something that sparkled. And then I spotted him – Rúben, the guy I've secretly been crushing on since forever. The idea of expressing my feelings in this kind of workplace felt terrifying, so I kept my emotions tucked away like a carefully wrapped gift.

But wouldn't you know it, destiny had other plans – there we were, standing right under the mistletoe. Rúben gave me a big smile when he spotted that cheeky decoration hanging right over our heads.

"So, do we play along or risk seven years of bad luck?" Rúben asked, a daring twinkle in his eye.

I rolled my eyes, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, mistletoe's got jokes tonight."

But then, there's this moment. The twinkling lights, the festive buzz – it's like the universe hit pause just for us; the distance between us lessened, and for a fleeting second, it seemed like the world around me faded away. Rúben's eyes locked onto mine, and the whole room blurred into the background. 

He leaned in, and for a split second, there was that tiny, thrilling gap between us – the kind of pause that makes your heart race. And then, our lips met. It wasn't a hurried peck or a casual brush; it was a slow, deliberate kiss.

The taste of the holiday punch lingered on our lips, and I could feel the warmth of his breath mingling with mine. The world outside seemed to disappear, leaving us enveloped in the soft glow of Christmas lights and the gentle melody of a classic tune playing in the background.

Time hung suspended, and for that stolen moment under the mistletoe, it was just us, wrapped up in the magic of the season and the unexpected spark between us. 

When we finally pulled away, the room came back into focus, but something had shifted. The air crackled with a newfound energy, a shared secret that would make this Christmas in Manchester unforgettable.

#ruben dias #football fic #football imagine #ruben dias x reader #christmas drabble #rúben dias

[highdreaming]

Rúben Dias: NSFW Moment

💢 All the works are pure fictions, for entertainment purposes only so please, read it at your own will.

Find more at: Masterlist

WARNINGS: SEX; Breeding Kink; slight Choking Kink

AN: Please like, reblog and give me feedback!

--

Rúben keeps thrusting into you, his strong body covering yours. Your hands are intertwined, his face nuzzling your neck. The pleasure comes in waves, each stronger than the other as he fucks you desperately against the mattress. 

“Oh, fuck! I’m so close, baby. Can’t hold it much longer.” he groans, speeding up his movements and a moan escapes your lips. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, feeling him slip impossibly deeper into you, his cock rubbing every right spot inside you and the pressure builds inside you.

The wet sounds both of your bodies produce is borderline obscene, breaking the night’s silence with sinful noises and moans and it only turns you on even more. 

His vigorous thrusts make the whole bed shake, the headboard continuously banging against the wall and you’re so glad that you live in a penthouse, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to face neighbors in the morning. 

“I can cum inside, right?” Rúben asks, pulling his face away from your neck and you can only nod, unable to form any words. 

“That’s my girl.” he praises you, his hip punctuating a particularly deep thrust that makes both of you moan. 

“Want me to fill you up to the brim, right? You want all of my cum, don't you?” he keeps up, the coil in your stomach tightening with every delicious word he says. 

“Please, please. I need you so much.” you cry out, the need to climax too strong for you to handle. 

Rúben’s lips curl into a cocky smirk, pleased at your eagerness. He leans forwards to roughly kiss you, one of his hands leaving your own to curl around your throat and you gasp, feeling the coldness of one of his rings against your sensitive skin.

He parts the kiss, pressing his face so close to yours that your noses touch, his brown eyes focused on yours as he keeps pounding into you. 

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna give your pussy every single drop of my cum and you’re gonna take it all like a good girl.“ he pants, breath faltering as he gets closer and closer to his high.

And so do you, letting out a whimper as you feel yourself on the verge of reaching your peak, eyes closing as you feel your body giving in. 

“I’m gonna fuck a baby into you, that’s what I’m gonna do. Gonna make sure you’re pregnant with my kid after I’m done with you.” he groans and your resistance breaks, incommensurable pleasure washing over you. 

The same happens to Rúben as he lets out an animalistic groan, spilling himself inside you before tiredly falling on top of you, his hand slipping away from your neck. Both of you remain in silence for a few moments, trying to calm your breathing, snuggled in each other’s embrace. 

Rúben is the first one to move, gently pulling himself up from you, propped on his elbows. His hand softly reaches to pull away some hair strands that had glued to your face and you look at him, giving him a tired smile. 

“You did amazing, babe. I love you so much.” he whispers, pressing small kisses to your face. 

------------

#@highdreaming #football imagines #football imagine #football blurbs #football blurb #football fanfiction #football fiction #football oneshot #footballer imagine #football fanfic #football smut #ruben dias #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias x y/n #ruben dias smut #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias blurb #ruben dias one shot #ruben dias drabble #footballer x you #footballer fanfiction #footballer blurb #footballer x y/n #footballer x reader #football one shot #footballer fic #footballer smut

[joaofelix70]

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

[oh-saints]

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

[oh-saints]

Hi I don’t know if you’ll get this but I have an idea for Rúben Dias, he starrs crushing on the female photographer for Man City and his teammates start teasing him, he doesn’t want to admit his feelings because he thinks the photographer is dating someone ( but she’s actually single and is just introverted)

aaaaahh this feels close to home bcs i'd gotten mistaken so many times by men due to my introvert nature /sigh

silent

rúben should really stop interpreting things out of hand on his own and start asking the right questions instead.

rúben dias x photographer!you

wc: 2.7k

note: here's is my comback piece! (is that even a valid word?) i actually had this idea in mind for a while and i love writing this bcs i can see he could make this kind of cute mistake! this actually hits closer to home, too, considering that i'm an intovert as well LOL but as usual, I happen to write at dawn so this is not beta-read yet.

happy new year too, everyone! i wish you'll have a blessed year ahead <3

“cupcakes!”

you groaned inwardly, that must be jack grealish. only the 100-million man would call you with overly sweet pet names like that, and he did it so often no matter how many times you corrected him that you had a real name during the first month of your employment here. now entering your third month, you’ve long given up, but you’d renamed his contact to be jack greasy on your phone.

“come sit over with us!”

unlike your nickname, though, you hadn’t given up on his persistent request to sit amongst his set of friends because good lord could they be so boisterous their laughter sounded more like a boom in your ears sometimes. their energy simply went off the roof and your introvert self could never handle it well.

you’d have your time to photograph everyone in the bus later anyway, so you gave him a polite smile, without another word, and proceeded to sit down beside your fellow media team.

you could hear jack screaming protest “aw, come on, cupcakes!” as you took your seat. his friends were laughing on his face at your rejection.

if you have your way, though, you’d badly want to be assigned to the calmer tide of the bus. the likes of julian, kevin, bernardo were more suitable for your kind. but being the one responsible for the disposable camera and all of city’s short off-pitch videos, jack and his circus were more than a matchmade in heaven for a better result.

before you had more complaints to mull over, your colleagues turned to face you and started babbling about an upcoming short video the both of you would have to make. the plot, the script, down to deciding who’d be best to be asked for to star in the video.

“i think rúben dias would do just fine.”

being a newbie, you nodded along the names he mentioned because in all honesty, you didn’t exactly know who is who and which is which until now. two months splattered all over the men’s and the women’s team, as well as the academy, was pretty much a guarantee you’d missed out on someone.

but you always, no matter how busy you are, spared some time to browse on the player before you met them, in case it was someone you should be worried for, or someone you should be thankful of for their media-darling persona, or someone you should be working twice as hard because they didn’t know what to do. worse, someone you’d worked together before but you forgot.

for rúben dias, though… you didn’t know which one of the categories above fitted him best. you were rendered speechless at your search bar result. you could bet your entire month salary that he was someone you had yet the chance to create a content together because if he already did, you wouldn’t have that face of his wiped off your brain.

which was exactly why you should be worried.

you had never worked with someone that looks like adonis when he decides to ascend himself from olympus. or so you’d like to think rúben was what adonis would’ve looked like if greek mythology happens to be true.

sadly, nobody warned you that he was even more beautiful up close, as he strutted his way to your creator team, with a tousled hair he kept tussling against, as well as the bright smile and warm laugh he’d drop here as he went through pre-production brief. his voice was so melodic it soothed all the soreness to your eardrums—thanks to jack grealish—in one simple video production, and you mentally thought you could replay the edited video later whenever you needed to go to sleep, like an asmr or some sort, because it really felt like a blanket on a rainy day.

your heart ached at the sight because my goodness… he was simply too beautiful for your own good.

it shouldn’t be doing all that jumping and leaping and drumming, though, because those were the early signs of you getting biased.

and it could only mean one thing in every professional language possible: bad.

with your very generous pay check on the line, you couldn’t afford to fail. so that day, you made a promise to yourself to do what you had to do, and thankfully it was what your introvert self do best.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

while you knew what to do, rúben—on the contrary—seemed lost.

no, the portugese was lost.

contrary to popular belief, footballers are actually smart. at least, if they are not book smart, they’re definitely street smart. rúben would like to think he’s got a bit of both worlds, so it could justify his own judgement of you.

his eyes were keen, as his job required him to do so, and he’s got an incredible sensing, enough to read a gigantic elephant in the room when there was one. the combination scanned your change in attitude on the day he first worked with you and the present time.

you were so friendly and eager to work with him, welcoming his extended hand as he introduced himself to you for the first time. he remembered your smile, blinding against the bleak manchester weather but instead of feeling cold, he only felt warmth and fuzzy all over his body.

but as the filming session went on, your smile was close to non-existent, just like the probability of the two of you running into each other again. he initially thought it was only because you got so many takes already and the job exhausted you, but he later realised you were avoiding him. as subtle as you could anyway.

at the beginning, he only thought you missed the way he waved at you. or the time when he thought you put his row of seat last for a mandatory picture in your disposable camera, for aesthetics’ sake.

the time when he offered you a ride home, though—that was the final confirmation. the weather had started snowing on some days, and you were certainly freezing by the look of your shivering shoulders and teetering teeth, so rúben offered you a ride home. but you turned down the offer, ever so politely like usual. yes, yes of course you had the rights but the most logical thing was to accept them instead of waiting for the next bus, no?

(oh, believe him, he knew she was waiting. he managed to parked far away from your sight but close enough to see that you did indeed wait for the next bus to arrive and take you to the nearest station. he knew, and he remembered that day because it was the only day he had to fight himself from running down the street just to give you another layer of coat.)

his first instinct was to think that he’d wronged you somehow during the filming. was he demanding? was he not up to your par of filming standard? was he not good enough for your cameras?

but james, your fellow co-worker, the one who worked together with you for this project, gave him an utterly confused look. “have you seen how the videos turned out? you were brilliant, rúben. and no, i don’t think i’ve heard any concerns from her about your ethics.”

so what did he still not do right that could’ve upset you?

rúben didn’t like where this was going because you’ve kept him intrigued. you kept him on his toes, bouncing lightly like a child full of curiosity. you kept him thirsty for more information about you and what makes you tick, lowkey in hope to bring out the smile rúben himself didn’t know he had missed seeing.

and if he discovered that he did indeed upset you somehow, and was somehow responsible for the disappearance of your shy smile, then he’d like to right them right away. he has to.

with that mentality, rúben took the chance to clock out earlier—which was like the seventh wonder of the world around etihad academy—in order to catch a glimpse of you on your off-work routine. he’d set himself resolved to only ask necessary questions, not more nor less, without any hidden agenda. no wishy washy, unlike his previous trials.

rúben did actually catch you for a split second. his beak was already opening, he’d only needed his voice box to produce the sound to the question in his mind, but the scene unravelled before him halted everything in him. every particle of his body, every molecule of his brain.

a black car swerved into the lane to the lobby, a pretty prestigious car at that, and the way your face lit up so brightly reminded him of the day you first worked together. it was a sight that rúben missed, it was a sight that rúben longed to see again.

he was so blinded by the ethereal view that he completely forgot his own plan, and watched as the black car swallowed his portion of small happiness of the day.

was that your boyfriend? if yes, then did you take rúben’s friendliness as a romantical advance to you? if yes, then was that the reason why you immediately put up a china wall between you two? if yes, then was he that protective or was he simply possessive?

rúben couldn’t deny his own infatuation of you. maybe it was why he was adamant to right things good between the two of you. but if you did in fact have a boyfriend, then he should find a way to reduce and silence this growing feeling—be it really infatuation or merely curiosity.

“does she have a boyfriend?”

but desperate times need desperate measures, and rúben saw ‘the black car incident’ was his sign to speed things up in order to find a concrete answer. even if it included asking jack grealish about you.

jack snorted, rather snobby. “how would i know, mate?”

“i thought you guys are close.”

“your definition of close is concerning,” jack replied as he shut his locker. “why don’t you ask her yourself? aren’t you the type to just charge at it first, think later?”

“i would’ve if she didn’t give me a cold shoulder.”

“have you tried?”

rúben was the one who didn’t hold back his snort this time. “of course i did.”

“then maybe you were asking the wrong question, mate.”

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as much as rúben hated to confess that jack actually had a point, he had to give hands down. he might be asking the wrong question, he might be asking too much question, he might be asking the right question with the wrong approach.

bottom line, he’d concluded himself that he had to try until he succeeded. each time in different approach, different variables. logically speaking, it should take him somewhere for a clue. if it didn’t, it should at least tire you enough to have you spell the answer to his queries.

rúben had gathered enough information that you and your team had wrapped up filming for christmas and new year’s content, complete with kids involved and all. you were supposed to stay in the editing room, and working late on it because there was a teaser—which fell into your line of work under “short videos”—to be uploaded tomorrow evening.

he purposefully slowed his pace for anything that did not require physical activities and trainings, resulting in him also staying late to finish some of his homework—his affectionate nickname for video trainings he’d like to execute at home, in the comfort of his abode and plush suede pillows—so he could match your pace of work. he planned to catch you off guard the same way as ‘the black car’ incident.

at 8, you finally went out of your cave, precisely like his little rat had informed him before. so of course, you were startled to find rúben already standing against the railing in front of your office.

“rúben,” your voice got stuck in your throat but rúben thought it was a cute squeak. it was also a better response, rúben thought, too. you could’ve spat at him or shooed him away immediately. “what are you doing here?”

“i’m—” rúben thought about lying for a second, but he decided it’d contribute nothing to a start of a friendship. yes, friendship, because it was the bare minimum, no? “i’m waiting for you.”

your eyes widened, and that was when rúben noticed the golden specks on the orbs of your eyes. heartbreakingly stunning, solely because rúben only noticed this now.

you shifted the weight of your body from your right leg to your left one, and rúben found it endearing because he noticed that was an early sign an introvert—you, in this case—was starting to get nervous or uncomfortable. rúben hoped it was the former because that’d put you as cute as an awkward lone penguin.

“is there anything i can help you with?”

“yes, i’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

with his devastatingly beautiful look, his velvet voice and his intensely deep brown eyes, your heart palpitated so fast and so irregular that you were afraid rúben could see them falling and getting back into its designated place like a bungee jumper.

or maybe the rope snapped on its way down and never found its way up again, depending on the question about to be fired at you. at this point, your mind went funnily white, and you were ready to succumb into either pressure or temptation, depending on the question he’d fire you with.

“do you hate me?”

you seemed perplexed at his blatant question, but he’d take that reaction over anything else because it was something, especially compared to the invisible wall you’d put up since the first time you both had worked together.

“do you?” rúben pressed his voice gently, while he took a step closer to you. slowly but assertively.

the movement snapped you back to reality. you should not heed into pressure, but there was no use in lying because in reality, you really had no reason to hate him. if you had your chance, you would’ve done things the other way around.

“no, i don’t.”

another step closer. “but have you ever hated me?”

realising the 6-feet centre back was doing, you involuntarily moved backwards in the same amount of steps that he did, albeit the distance reached was certainly and significantly a huge gap you could never keep. “no, rúben—”

before you could finish your sentence, he obliterated every single space left in between the two of you and cornered you to the nearest wall. “then do you like me?”

you should be running, you should be fleeing, you should be screaming down the hill. you should be anywhere but here, trapped in between the long, strong and sturdy pair of his arms, the very same one he used to defend himself and the ball from the opponent. the very same one your eyes couldn’t lie but appreciate its masculinity.

rúben noticed the miniscule movement of your eyes, despite your tightened body language, and it brought a little smile on the corner of his lips. maybe he had indeed asked all the wrong question in all the previous times he’d had the chance.

“tell me,” rúben then pronounced your name in the way no one else could, so soft and velvet like a fine cashmere being caressed against your eardrums, that shivers ran down your entire body as if you were struck by a lightning. “please tell me that, at least.”

so paradoxic, you thought inwardly at the sensation. and you supposedly hated the way he confused you, but you didn’t this time—you didn’t even detest the way he seemed enjoying this whole thing, by the way he pulled of a subtle smirk that busted your knees slowly but surely—and it made you even more crazy because what the hell was this?

you tried to mask it off by looking him straight in the eyes. well, tried to, at least, because the moment your eyes were connected with the milkiest brown orbs that reminded you of a hot chocolate on a wintry day, you couldn’t help but look away. “what do you want me to say?”

rúben didn’t fight a full smile from blooming on his face, as the tip of his finger aligned your face gently to face his. he really likes the fact you gave him a fair fight to remain indifferent still, even when everything else of your body failed to be your auxiliary. “do you like me?”

“i do—”

“then would you like to have a dinner with me tonight?”

#anon asks #oh-saints answers #oh-saints writes #oh-saints writes requests #ruben dias #rúben dias #ruben dias x you #ruben dias fluff #ruben dias imagines #ruben dias one shot #ruben dias fics #ruben dias blurbs #ruben dias drabbles #football fics #football fanfiction #footballer x you #footie fics

[oh-saints]

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.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

“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.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

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.

#ruben dias #rúben dias #ruben dias fic #ruben dias one shot #ruben dias angst #ruben dias fanfic #ruben dias imagines #ruben dias drabbles #ruben dias blurb #ruben dias smut #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias x you #footie fics #footballer x you #footballer x reader #footie fic

[oh-saints]

Alphabet nfsw Rúben dias

you ask nicely and therefore you shall receive, dearest <3

please dni if you're not 18 yet! i really wouldn't if i were you bcs even i felt so hot as i wrote this lololol

(request is still open & you can drop them here)

A for after care

while rúben is such a sweet and caring boyfriend off the sheets, he’s insanely a beast on the sheet so it doesn’t come off a surprise to you that he leaves behind the cum he shot into you to dry. in his opinion, nothing’s sexier than waking up to that sight.

B for body part

rúben loves his hands and probably envies the organ because they can reach places where his tongue and nose and lips cannot. he loves to see and ignites a lot of your body reactions from his touches—your squirms, your arches, your shivers—so it comes naturally for him to love every inch of your body. although if he has to pick, he’s definitely a boob person.

C for cum

as exhibited under point A above, nothing is sweeter than the sensation of him being engulfed by your insides like a lover’s hug after a long seperation, therefore his favourite place to shoot his cum is inside of you.

D for dirty secret

you always wear something that’s easy for his hands to do as he pleases with you—open back dresses, skirts with slits, no bra, thongs…—and it pleases rúben to no end knowing you’re always ready for him.

E for experience

you’d like to think rúben is much more experienced than you but it turns out he only knows as far as things he like to do. it’s kind of a knowledge sharing between you two sometimes.

F for favourite position

while missionary cannot be replaced whatsoever for how much he loves to see your most honest expressions, he cannot eliminate some other risqué positions either. no, not the doggy style kind of thing but more like standing or when he carries you off from one place to another because he can slide into you much more easier and deeper that way.

G for goofy (e.g. are they always serious in bedroom or are they not?)

between the two of you, you’re much more relaxed in terms of personality. so most of the time, it’s more like a session where he shuts your mouth to get on with it.

H for hair

do we need to go through this? like, have you seen him with his shirt off? he definitely takes a good care of himself, which includes leaving his happy trail unshaved because you like it so much every time he lifts of his shirt.

I for intimacy

he takes things seriously, sex is no exception. he thinks the sensual activity is actually important because it’s the only one that can bring you two closest without space in between you. and sex with rúben is heaven on earth for you because he always takes a good care of you, like he always does off the sheet.

J for jack-off

he’s not a big fan of doing his own work because you ruined his perspective of hand and blow jobs for him. damn it.

K for kink

he’s silently into breath play but never pulling off more than slight pressure into your neck. he’s not a sadist to begin with, but you’re not complaining because it’s always so hot to hear the words he breathes onto your ears while he’s holding you still by the neck.

L for location

depends on the mood, to be honest. if either of you is aiming for comfort zone, then it’s definitely your room or the big, plushy sofa in the living room. but if it’s the otherwise, then it can be anywhere that’s stable enough to hold both of you—I mean, look at the (literal) size of that guy. the kitchen island’s lucky they’re made of marbles.

though, deep down, rúben holds a soft spot to the floor-length window of your vanity.

M for motivation

when his girlfriend looks like you, rúben doesn’t need to find a motivation to initiate sex. but there’s always something about you lifting your shirt off your head as you walk into your closet…

N for no (as in what turn him off or something he’d most likely reject)

anything that makes your uncomfortable, period.

that, and anything that requires him to show you off to people while doing sex.

O for oral

while you taste absolutely divine, he prefers to receiving heads from you because he loves seeing the glint in your eyes as you feel powerful going down on him. as a bonus, he likes to hear your grunts and see your determination as you try to fit all of him inside your mouth, wanting to please him like a good girl you are.

P for pace

despite claiming he’s not a sadistic earlier, he loves torturing you by going in and out of you super slow, taking in the sight of your pussy swallowing his girth good and feeling his bulge on your lower stomach underneath his palms, while he sees you losing your sanity bits by bits.

Q for quickie

it’s not often rúben loses his head but there was one occurrence where he came with you for your bridesmaid fitting and you looked so good in that dress that it drove him wild. because he certainly couldn’t rip the dress out of you this second, he chose to fuck you wordlessly in the VIP fitting room like there wasn’t any staffs waiting beyond the curtain. you’d never come so fast in your life that day.

R for risk

living up to his reputation of man of routine, it’s mostly you that hints or coaxes him to try somethings with you. who is he to say no anyway, as long as it’s not something that crosses his line?

S for stamina

do not ask about this thing to a man who runs back and forth on a pitch for a full 90-minute. you even have to hire your own professional trainer to keep up with his energy, or else you’d only last for an hour before passing out without giving back pleasures to rúben.

T for toys

your bunny vibrator was actually your only best friend, until you met rúben. but being a good boyfriend, he likes to indulge your friends, always, and that includes the rubber bunny. you’re certainly not complaining when it makes your orgasm intensifies from both the sensation of rúben’s balls slamming against your skin and the vibrating machine combined.

U for unfair (e.g. how much they like to tease?)

going this far, it’s pretty safe for us to conclude that he loves to tease you endlessly. if not, he wouldn’t have kept the happy trail unshaven or asked you to leave your underwear behind during one christmas dinner with his family. and once in a while, you’d love him to get a taste of his own medicine because you know that a sexually frustrated rúben dias is the best side of rúben you can ask for.

V for volume

his voice is naturally deep so whenever he grunts dirty words while you sink down on him, the vibration reaches your clit and brings you closer to the edge faster than you’d like. but he’s more on the silent type because he likes to hear your moans and whines and gasps.

W for wild card (a random headcanon)

rúben’s most memorable moment of you two having sex was that one summer night on your vacation, both of your heads dizzy from the fizz drunk but enough to push rúben to—at first—tease you by peeling off the black sundress you were wearing, the pads of his fingers kissing your skin as light as his lips peppering down kisses on the trail of his fingers. your broken gasps fuelled his adrenaline more as he caressed your clit with a hand, while the other slithering upwards to the direction of your neck. your hot breaths steamed off against the mirror in front of you as you felt his large hands going from your belly button, to your ribs, to the middle of your ample breasts, until they settled well on your collarbone. you could feel your right boob folded nicely but carnally in the inside of your elbow, and you had never experienced something so sexily raw.

X for xray

I’m sure even we all recognise the size of his delicious cock ghosting over his pants on several of his steamy photoshoots. yes, we’re talking about the nike underwear one.

Y for yearning (i.e. how high is their sex drive?)

not that high, compared to normal people. once or twice in a month due to your busy schedules, but it’s always worth the mornings you’re being reprimanded by your boss.

Z for zzz (i.e. how quickly they’ll fall asleep afterwards)

going back to the exhibition under point A, rúben isn’t one to fall asleep fast because it’s always a cuddle session after a damn good sex for you both. but between the two of you, of course you fall asleep faster (cue point S) and when he’s in the mood, he stays awake longer so he can wipe off all the dirt of your body so you can sleep comfortably.

#anon asks #oh-saints answers #oh-saints writes #oh-saints writes requests #ruben dias #rúben dias #ruben dias smut #ruben dias blurb #ruben dias blurbs #ruben dias drabble #ruben dias drabbles #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias imagines #ruben dias fic #ruben dias fanfic #ruben dias fanfiction #footballer smut #footie fic #footie fanfic

[oh-saints]

as a fellow ruben girlie here, i'm so happy for the anon! imagine seeing ruben's ass live 👀 BUT HERE ME OUT BESTIE can you please make something out of her (incoming) experience? pretty please? 🥹

you. did. not?!?! BCS YOU WON'T BELIEVE HOW FAST I MADE THIS i really need to stick with closing the request box bcs i've been getting so many 😭

signs

you hold up a sign that caught rúben’s attention… and he takes it in his liberty as a sign from the universe.

rúben dias x you

word count: 1.2k (short one because this is sort of a comeback/warm-up piece lol)

tw: brief mention of alcohol

note: this is inspired on this fellow ruben girlie’s incoming experience but let’s just think of this as manifesting *good things* from front row, yeah? as usual, i happen to write during work so this is ofc not beta-read. feedbacks are also welcome! i'm so torn on whether or not to be writing a follow-up to this tho><

your girlies’ idea of bachelorette party was, for the lack of words, non-traditional.

instead of penis-shaped cake and lipstick scribbles across the face or a heavily-drunken trip to and from the strip club, you were flying to Portugal to catch the male national team on action. per the soon-to-be-bride’s words, it was her last chance to fawn over handsome men she never gets the chance to have before settling with the reality that her fiancé is nowhere near the delicious set of men with stubbles and godly bodies.

in reality, you have to agree with the sentiment. there’s no way an ordinary girl like you, no matter how much you try to dream waking up beside rúben dias, is going to end up with a someone that shares one room with Cristiano Ronaldo in the camp. best choice you can have is probably the goalkeeper from your office’s football club.

so who are you to reject the offer of the front row access to see those muscular thighs up close and personal?

however, what your friends didn’t tell you about was the fact that the embarrassing element was going to still be present. it just wasn’t in the form of the lap dance you were getting from the strippers or the walk-of-shame you had to do when you walk out of a club pretty smashed.

it came in the form of the sign boards the upcoming bride had especially prepared for this very day.

everyone was designated for a sign board with different words respectively. it wasn’t provoking enough but the blurred lines were pretty obvious to imply you and your peer group were sexually frustrated in front of these hot guys. quoting the matron of the event, “there’s nothing wrong in trying to get their attention.”

but you’d like to think that wobbly walks you had to endure from the taxi to your flat on the 3rd floor would be much better than holding up the sign in your hands now. well, anything is better than waving “Marry me, Dias! I got the energy of a stallion!” placard from the side lines, to be honest.

you swore under your breath that if the bride wasn’t your best friend from the university days—who was truly having the time of her life, by the way, with the way she was screaming cancelo’s name like tomorrow’s ending—you’d ditch this event immediately. no matter how much you initially wanted the exquisite view of these stunning guys running and drenched in sweat sexily for 90 minutes.

“here, drink this.”

and you didn’t think twice before downing the bitter liquid from the flask another friend of yours managed to sneak in. how she did it—you didn’t want to know, but you got to admit there was a reason why she was the valedictorian. you needed the instant adrenaline injected to your bloodstream because there was no way in hell you were going to lift up the mortifying stack of words sober.

the alcohol effected the way you took on your surroundings, obviously. albeit you were still not as loose as the others, you came to accept your defeat when you started screaming for rúben, too, in the way the future bride was screaming for cancelo and the valedictorian for felix.

people around you were definitely throwing you and your girls various looks. some were disgusted at the dirty words indicating the bride’s dirtiest fantasies on cancelo—which you admitted went a bit too far sometimes—some were also laughing whenever she casted a curse on the opponents tackling the right winger. some others shook their heads in confusion because why the fuck was there a group of thirsty women in a very manly event?

but you could care less. your friends were having the best moments in their lives and you were not going to be a bitch about it. you were not going to even acknowledge the second-hand embarrassment you were internally having because of your friend’s peculiar antics, which had intensified as they ran out of liquid contents from the shared silver flask belonging to the valedictorian.

the rest of the girls—not you, who’d taken in a considerable amount of alcohol compared to others and could now be considered their sober friend—reached their peak when the whistle blew on the final minutes. the winning atmosphere kind of encouraged those crazy ladies to jump in their seats with their assigned sign boards. you even had to stop another friend of yours from flashing her boobs in public because dealing with police in a foreign country was the last thing in your bucket list.

you pleaded them to come down from their seats, as well. in your defence, they could fall off the seat flat on their faces and a swollen bride and her entourage were definitely not welcomed on the wedding day. but they didn’t give a shit about it and laughed at your face for not soaking up the moment as good as they were.

you turned away from the crazy bunch by facepalming your face, the tip of your thumb was massaging the space between your eyebrows. you thought it was working to ease off the headache, for suddenly the girls went silent in the background.

but you realised it wasn’t the case at all when you heard a familiar voice that you used to listen on several man of the match interview.

“hey, kid,” and you had to look up to make sure your head wasn’t playing tricks on you. “here’s for you.”

rúben was actually standing behind the barricade placed between the field and the audience seats. his hand was stretched to give the shirt he’d worn today to the little kid beside you, who’d been flailing his own sign board of can I have your shirt? throughout the match. the kid jumped at the opportunity, his father behind him thanking the football player for his generosity, and you were blinded by the smile etched on his face as wide as the Mississippi river.

you didn’t bother to blame your humiliating friends for shutting up anymore because you were as stunned as they were.

“and you, my lady,”

you turned your head to spot the person behind you, the one the defender was pointing at, so ready to congratulate whoever the lucky woman was for being able to entice the rúben dias’ attention. but you were met with bunch of men instead, shouting parabens, rúben!

so you twisted your body again, this time towards the towering number 3, with a rather perplexed expression because his line of sight hadn’t moved an inch from where you stood. your nearest friend was one or two feet away from you, and noticing how flustered you were in figuring out his call was meant for you, rúben let out a small laugh but enough to make your entire body trembled with overwhelming warmth.

“yes, you, the one who wears joao cancelo’s name on the back,” and that could be your entire team, for it was the bride’s request to wear her favourite player’s number. “I think you’d suit my last name better, no? your sign says you ask for it anyway.”

every power evaporated from your legs right away.

#this is for you ruben girlies #anon asks #oh-saints answers #oh-saints writes #oh-saints writes requests #ruben dias #rúben dias #ruben dias blurb #ruben dias blurbs #ruben dias drabble #ruben dias drabbles #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias imagines #ruben dias oneshot #ruben dias one shot #ruben dias fic #ruben dias fics #ruben dias fanfic #ruben dias fanfics #ruben dias fanfiction #ruben dias fluff #ruben dias x you #ruben dias x y/n #footie #footie fic #footie fics #footballer x you

[oh-saints]

ruben going to singer!readers concert and being infatuated with her!!!!!🤭

i like this concept more than i'd like to admit... but i changed the details a bit, i hope you don't mind and like this all the same! xx

comeback

when it's your comeback stage after 2 years, you can always count on rúben for always having your back. and rúben finds another reason to fall in love with you.

rúben dias x singer!reader

word count: 1.7k

note: none but sweet, sweet rúben teheee but as usual, i happen to write at dawn so ofc this is not proof-read.

“where are you?”

rúben chuckled at the question you fired as soon as he picked up the phone. you never did that, not saying hello, darling, and he could only assume it was due to the nerves slowly kicking in. after all, tonight was going to be the first time you’d come back to the surface of the showbiz world after 2-year hiatus post the break-up that stunned the world with your ex-boyfriend.

“i’m pulling up, meu anjo,” and he didn’t lie, you’d heard the intangible, muffled words exchanged between your boyfriend and someone presumably the hotel’s valet driver. “miss me much?”

missing rúben would be an understatement. with all the preparation for your first comeback stage, at the BRITs nonetheless, you’d been whisked away for far too long for your liking. you really couldn’t wait to the life you never thought would suit you—cheering him by the side line week in and out.

“you know i always do, my love.”

and you wasn’t lying, too. for there’d been countless timea he spotted your teary eyes over the facetime calls you did during this whole comeback fiasco. his presence the past year had been nothing but the biggest support system you could ever ask—your muse, your pillar altogether—and it felt weird not to be around him. it took everything of you not to succumb to temptation to just fly yourself out to manchester.

if you weren’t being brushed with make-up for final touch-up, you’d tackled rúben in the biggest bear hug you could give him the moment he stepped into the suite room. you’d settled for elongating your arms in the air for him to take, and he, perceptive as ever, brought the fingers he’d missed tangling his with to place small kisses all over the back of your hand.

“hello, my sweet darling,” he said as he kissed the small spot on top of your rose gold band. it didn’t escape him that you’d only worn the small ring he’d given you, their couple ring, on your left while your right was adorned by more numbers of jewelleries. “how are you?”

“the thought of you on your way here is what drives me to survive, honestly,” you grasped back the small pressure he gave your hand in assurance, just what you needed. only rúben knew trivial things like that, and that was why you wanted him more than anything for this monumental moment for you. “i feel like throwing up the whole day.”

which you could, by the way. rúben had seen it first hand back when you released your newest album for the first time, fright and nerves were all over your face—for what the public’s reaction, for your fans’ reaction. for rúben’s reaction, too, especially the fact he knew it by then there’d be a couple of songs directed towards your ex, as well as the beautiful journey that led your to him.

thankfully, he was so relaxed about it because “if it wasn’t because of him, i wouldn’t have had you now.” he considered your album to be your way of honest expression, your freedom of speech, and you just happened to be a good storyteller at that.

“i’ll be the one holding for your hair, meu amor,” he responded to you, as easy as breathing, as he pulled up the stool with his free hand in hope he could ease off the cold sweats breaking underneath your skin. “but your beautiful make-up would be ruined. can you puke that after the red carpet, at least?”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

the crowd went insanely wild at the sight of you descending the limousine with rúben helping you on the step.

you’d hinted your new relationship on the last album, but had never answered the accusations of how the lucky guy was. you’d only described him in your lyrics, but had always dodged the direct questions of who it might be. none of them mentioned rúben, though, which somehow gave you mixed reaction because while you were happy no one could catch the hint and thus left you with some space to date around the past year, it was also sad because people didn’t consider rúben into the nomination when the hints were as clear as the sky.

but that wasn’t why he was here, regardless. you needed him to be here—with you, for you, by your side—or else, you’d combust. he was one of the few people that could understand the level of pressure you were currently under, and he was the only one who knew how to help to alleviate them. so, might as well reveal him to the rest of the world while he did so, relieving you both the endless pursuit of hide-and-seek with the paparazzi whenever you go somewhere with him.

you’d heard people screaming in amazement and wonder why and how rúben got there, with you of all people in tow. some women were hysterically shattering your ears with oh my fucking god i cannot fucking believe this, while some journalists were typing ferociously to break the news of the most attractive couple grazing the red carpet.

for the last part, you couldn’t deny that. you both had matched the concept of your attires for the evening. him wearing a satin ultramarine blue suit, the same shade you’d gone crazy about since the last time he wore the colour when representing his country in the world cup; you wearing a satin ultramarine evening dress with a thigh slit form he’d gone crazy about since he last saw you wearing a similar fashion to one of your date nights. with both of your visual supporting the fabrics, it was safe to say you could pride yourself in making it to the best dressed couple award.

but none of it all was enough to conceal the nerves grippling you from the deepest part of your inside. you’d jumped at his touch the moment he landed his hand on the small part of your back gently, and you have never reacted that way to his touch. you’d blinked rapidly every time flashes getting to your eyes, you were also visibly confused about where or who to see every time your name was called.

“breathe, meu anjo,” he pulled you closer to him, hiding the slightly trembling hands by engulfing one of them to his. “you’re doing great. everybody loves you.”

at his words, you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. at the sensation of his fingers made a circling motion on top of your hips, you closed your eyes and counted to 10—a trick he taught you before he stepped onto the pitch. at the kiss he placed on top of your head, you opened your vision again to look at him. fuck the people screaming around you.

he sensed your line of sight, so he glanced down at you. your eyes never failed to convey how grateful you were to him, to every step he’d taken with you, and it was one of the things he loves about you. so just to be fair, he said the same words silently through the embrace he gave you, burying his face by crook and nook of yours like you were two pieces of puzzle fit perfectly against each other.

the sequence—of him turning you around before hugging you tightly—made it to become the most popular video and gif on the internet that evening. followed closely by the moment camera caught on rúben’s expression as soon as you did your ending pose on the stage.

he stood from his seat to applaud you before everyone else, eyes never darted anywhere else but you on the stage. when he said you were the best storyteller, he wasn’t downplaying. you had your way with music, with words, with your expression and you dared to bare yourself while doing what you loved the most. you captivated him, as you always do, with those skills you sharpened everyday despite the fact you were naturally born with it.

combined that with the amount of efforts he knew you’d put into, he was visibly so proud while giving you the biggest standing ovation. and he was, because you were one of the most hardworking person he’d come to know of. your work ethic contended his, and it blew him off the waters the first time around, but instead of feeling hurt he’d lost to a woman, rúben respected you a lot more than he already did.

for him, nothing was sexier than a woman who’d earned her place and respect fair and square. nothing was sexier than you being applauded and appreciated by tons of people in the room, and tons more from their TV screen back home, for what you had and you will achieve. and he’d never felt so lucky to have met you, dated you, called you his in the room full of people that could’ve taken his place.

the smile that was etched on his face matched your growing one, and for someone who wanted to take a step back from the limelight that was directed to him due to his relationship with a public figure, rúben surely didn’t intend to shy away from catching the air kiss you blew his way.

the moment you took a seat beside him to join him for the remainder of the prestigious event, rúben couldn’t help but pull your seat so close to him he practically had you in his arms. he immediately kissed the side of your head, the side of your neck, down to your shoulder blade where your off-shoulder dress exposed them for his liking. “told you you’d smash it.”

the words enticed laughter from you because you knew rúben’s always right, but you couldn’t help the jitters gnawing you earlier. with the laughter, rúben felt you relaxed the way he usually found you when you were both inside your best sanctuary called home, despite being in a very public place, doing the biggest PDA you both had ever done during the past year you were together.

“thank you for being here, my love,” you settled back your figure well and comfortably against rúben’s chest, strong and sturdy like his presence in your life. truly your pillar of strength in every way the words might mean. “i couldn’t have done it without you.”

#anon asks #oh-saints answers #oh-saints writes #oh-saints writes requests #ruben dias #rúben dias #ruben dias blurb #ruben dias blurbs #ruben dias drabble #ruben dias drabbles #ruben dias fic #ruben dias fics #ruben dias one shot #ruben dias oneshot #ruben dias fanfic #ruben dias fanfiction #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias imagines #ruben dias fluff #ruben dias angst #ruben dias smut #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias x y/n #ruben dias x you #ruben dias x oc #footie fic #footie fics #footballer x you

[footballffbarbiex]

kissing ruben dias for the first time and feeling all giddy afterwards because you've been waiting to do it for a while for the blurbs?

from this post.

-

Rúben hadn't been due to come over tonight and yet, you'd found him standing on your doorstep. the weather had dropped sharply in the last week or so, going from early 20s to barely more than 3c on a good night. though you'd held off putting on the heating, you'd made sure you were fully wrapped up but standing here in front of him, you couldn't deny the shiver that was visible beneath the layers. Rúben on the other hand, was not dressed for the weather and stands trembling.

"do you want to come in?" you ask, watching as his bottom lip quivers and his arms shake as he tries to hold it back.

"yes and no. i want to," he clarifies. "but i need to go to John's."

you'd been to John's with Rúben before and you know that where you live is not on the way to his. he's taken a detour in order to come to yours and this thought alone makes your stomach flip.

his hair still has patches of dampness which is no doubt contributing towards his shivering. instinctively, you reach forward and smooth your hands up and down his arms to create warmth. it's a simple gesture but it brings a smile to Rúben's face as he follows the trail of your hands.

"and yet," you begin to say as you watch your hands, "you're here. shivering. in a manly way of course," you add and he chuckles.

"i was just thinking about something on the drive over, that's all." he says as he begins to rock back and forth on his feet, going from the ball to the heel and back again in a fluid motion.

"anything good?" you ask it as casually as you can but the way Rúben looks at you makes you want to swallow hard and seek out a drink.

"how i wanted to do this..." he says slowly, his tongue poking out between his lips to wet them as his hand lifts, two fingers extend and rest themselves beneath your chin to lift your face to look at him. he begins to dip his head before he pauses and asks, "can i kiss you?"

you can't speak as nerves get the better of you and all you can do is nod against his fingers.

"yeah?" he checks, a smile gracing his lips before he leans in again. his lips gently brush yours and you can feel the smile still there on his mouth before seriousness kicks in. he traces your lips with his own, his facial hair lightly grazes your skin before he finally applies that much needed pressure. he pauses just long enough for the contact to be something, but not too long to make you wonder if he'll ever pull away.

when he does, it's for mere seconds before his lips are back against your own and this time it feels different. there's a need there that you've been feeling yourself. your hands move from his arms, filling your palm with his shirt as you deepen the kiss. a small mewl escapes your mouth and fills his, as his tongue touches yours ever so lightly there's barely contact at all.

but it's over before it really starts and he's pulling away properly this time. Rúben rests his forehead against yours, the tip of his nose rubbing soft strokes on yours and that damn smile is back on his face when you manage to open your eyes.

"that's what you were thinking about?"

"mmmm hmm." he hums in agreement, "i thought i should let you know."

"i'm glad you hurried here to tell me."

"i'll make sure to do so again when it's next on my mind."

"please do." you don't want to, but your hands press against his chest and carefully push him away. if you didn't make him leave now, you'll be trying to encourage him to stay. "say hi to John for me?"

"i will," he nods. "i'll text you later."

"drive safe Rúben."

"always."

#ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias x you #ruben dias x y/n #ruben dias blurb #ruben dias drabble