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#manchester city fem
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esti11a · 28 days
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With A Fan?
pairing : rúben gato dias x reader
summary : some fans will always be fans, but some of them aren't.
author's note : soooo.... this is my first Tumblr story so I'm really trying to make this per-fect. Hope you all will enjoy this. Kisses -L.
ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE
☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★
☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★
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liked by yourfriend1, yourfriend4 and others
yourusername two home match in a row🇭🇺⚽️✨
tagged : yourfriend1
yourfriend1 night of our life!
yourusername YES!!
yourfriend4 gorg girl!!!
yourusername LOVE YOU BABE
yourfriend4 🤍🤍🤍
yourfriend3 YOU WERE THERE AGAINST PORTUGAL?
yourusername YESSSSS
☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★
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liked by yourusername, jackgrealish and others
rubendias Always a pleasure to play for Portugal🇵🇹❤️
jackgrealish Vamos mate!
liked by rubendias
bernandosilva ❤️❤️❤️❤️🇵🇹🇵🇹
liked by rubendias
fan5 I WAS THERE I CAN’T BELIEVE IT
cr7 🇵🇹!
rubendias 🇵🇹!
diogodalot Loverboy😂😂
rubendias Shut up mate!😂
fan1 ❤️❤️❤️❤️
fan2 so hot!
fan3 my jaw is on the floor!!!!
☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★
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liked by rubendias.mv, yourfriend5 and others
yourusername BCN✨🇪🇸🌶️
tagged : yourfriend2
yourfriend2 FINALLY WE MADE IT!!!!
yourusername YES! CAN’T BELIEVE!!!!!
yourfriend3 Take home some cute spanish boys!!!
yourusername team 🇵🇹
yourfriend3 Are we even surprised?
yourfriend4 No…..
☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★
yourusername 2h
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📍ibiza
☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★
ivandias02 3h
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☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★
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liked by yourusername, hugo_vft and others
rubendias Catching some sun before going back🇪🇸
hugo_vft we look good💪
rubendias We do mate💪
fan2 I think I died.
yourusername same sis😭
fan1 same!
ivandias02 🙄🙄🙄
rubendias 😂😂
rubendias.mv 💪🩵
fan9 WHO TOOK THESE????
fan2 I WANNA KNOW IT TOO!!!!!
☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★
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liked by fan2, beatriz_dias and others
yourusername first but not last time here! thank you Ibiza🇪🇸✨
yourfriend3 ship.
yourusername boat.
fan2 @fan9 ???????
fan9 Who is she?
beatriz_dias It was a pleasure to meet you!❤️❤️
yourusername SAME❤️❤️
yourfriend1 Who is that maaaan?
yourusername No ideal
yoursister Still don’t know how did you get him
yourusername shut up👹
☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★
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liked by eerling.haaland, fan7 and others
rubendias Back💪🩵
fan2 I’M SORRY??????
rubendias.mv HARD LAUNCH!!!!
footballwags Welcome Mrs.Newwag!
fan4 Who is she?
footballwags We are not sure but probably @yourusername
fan9 Isn’t she like 18-19 ??????
footballwags Yes she is 19
beatriz_dias love that pic😉
liked by rubendias
eerling.haaland We lost another mate @jackgrealish😭😭
jackgrealish He became a soft-boy😂😂😂😂
rubendias Shut up you two
jackgrealish You asked the woman before you commented?
rubendias 🙄🙄🙄
☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★
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liked by rubendias, yoursister and others
yourusername Brrrrr🌪️☁️☂️
yourfriend1 This is soft or hard?
yourusername idk I just posted🫤
yourfriend3 HARD!
fan5 ARE YOU DATING RUBEN DIAS??????
footballwags Welcome!❤️
liked by yourusername
yourfriend4 Favorite couple!!!!!
liked by yourusername
fan8 THAT IS RUBEN!!!!
fan2 NOOOOO
fan1 Yes it’s Ruben. I know my man when I see him
liked by yourusername
fan1 IS THAT A CONFIRMATION MISS????
fan9 same elevator☹️
fan03 we lost.
fan0 She only wants probably his money😬
fan10 8 YEARS GAP?????
☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★
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liked by yourfriend5, manchestercity and others
rubendias & yourusername Who are we to fight the alchemy?🤍
ivandias02 Congrats bro!
rubendias Thank you bro!
yousister A good wattpad story.
yourusername SHOULD I-?
rubendias NO
fan9 YES MOTHER
yourusername YOU CHOOSED THE WRONG STARTER PICTURE!!!!!
rubendias …….
yourusername I love you though🤍
rubendias I love you too babe🤍
☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★
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onabatlle-2 · 1 year
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united’s spanish duo 🥰, via osm.images’ story, 22/5/23
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hermywolf · 5 months
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lewisvinga · 5 months
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his lucky charm | carlos sainz x fem! reader / daughter
summary; even during the most stressful moments of football, carlos needs his good luck charm, his 6 month old daughter, in his arms.
word count; 630
warnings; ? idk pero hala madrid siempreeee
taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03
note; [requests are closed] I HAD TO DO THIS😫 i’m weak for madridista carlos and i saw a video of a guy holding his daughter while watching benzema score a penalty and it reminded me of carlos ! but also, el clásico win tdy w bellingol winner tho🤭🤭🤭
masterlist !
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“Carlos, you know you can set her down in her crib, right?” Y/n asked again for the second time in 10 minutes, looking at the sleeping baby in her husband's arms.
“Ahorita no, mi amor.” [not now, my love] Carlos quickly shushed his wife as he kept his eyes on the screen.
Sometime around the second half, he had picked up little Catalina in hopes it would calm down his nerves over the Real Madrid and Manchester City match. However, when the match went into overtime, his nerves just became worse.
He was so nervous that he couldn’t help but rock back and forth which made his daughter fall into a deep slumber in his arms. It made Y/n laugh to herself. She was a fan of the Madrid-based team but not to the extent of Carlos who lives and breathes Real Madrid.
Her father-in-law even made a joke once that the Sainz’s bleed white, the team's official color. Sure, she was nervous because it was a knockout match for the top competition of club football but not nervous to the extent of her husband.
“Carlos, I really think you should put Catalina down before-“
“She’s my good luck charm!” Carlos exclaimed, holding the 6-month-old close to his chest. She even was wearing the white Real Madrid kit his father gifted them when she was born, making her even more of a ‘good luck charm’
Y/n playfully rolls her eyes at her husband's antics. She gets up to go to the kitchen to grab her phone and a bottle of water. When she walked back to the living room, she saw him biting his fingernails and kneeling on the floor instead of sitting on the couch.
“Carlos, what are you…” Her voice trailed off. She wore a confused expression as he held a now awake Catalina in one hand and the other hand kept running through his hair.
“Penalties, mi amor! Penalties!”
Y/n sat back down on the couch and held her phone up so she could record his reactions. They were down to the last penalty, the 5th one. If Real Madrid made it then that means they would pass.
Even Catalina, who doesn’t even understand what is going on, was focused on the screen as #22 for the Madrid-based team took his spot. Y/n noticed her husband holding his breath as the player swung his leg back and kicked the ball. The ball makes it in causing her husband to let out a cheer.
Carlos immediately stands up to his feet and holds Catalina out. “Mi gatita! Ganamos! Vamos a los semifinales!” [my little cat! we won! we’re going to the semifinals!] He loudly exclaimed to his 6 month old daughter who gurgled in reply. “Te dije, Y/n! [i told you] She’s our lucky charm!”
He holds her close and leaves kisses all over her chubby cheeks. Catalina squeals at the sensation of her father's beard scratching her face. She plants her hands on his face as he continues to kiss her, letting out fits of giggles.
Y/n’s heart melted at the interaction between her husband and their daughter. She knew he’d make the best girl dad the moment she found out she was pregnant. She was right, he is the best girl dad.
She couldn’t help but burst out into laughter when she heard Carlos start to sing the anthem of Real Madrid to Catalina who kept gurgling at her father's antics.
Y/n stood recording and quickly uploaded the video of her husband and daughter to Instagram, captioning it ‘a Madridista and his lucky charm🤍 hala madrid!’. She knew people would immediately fawn over their favorite driver cheering to his daughter, but for now, she was just enjoying the show he was giving with his not-so-perfect singing.
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bellawoso · 7 months
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I Know Places
Ona Batlle x fem!reader
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You and Ona had always been rivals, whether it was national rivals, or club rivals, you always seemed to end up on opposing sides in women’s rival teams.
England vs Spain. Barcelona vs Lyon. And now Manchester United vs Manchester City. With both you and the Spaniard playing for Manchester teams in the WSL, it allowed for you two to see more of each other and eventually extended your rival status to being friends ever since a bad tackle from the brunette, and a follow on instagram from her later that night.
After some casual chatting and the occasional comment on each other’s instagram posts, the defender soon asked you on a date, you were nervous to say the least, but the date went well and after a few more you were quick to start dating.
Being together for over a year now, and being able to live with each other, your relationship was going well. Escaping the prying eyes of fans and photographers was hard, but you and Ona managed. Together.
Until at the end of the season, over dinner Ona told you about Barcelona’s offer for her, it was no surprise the team wanted her back, Ona was well known for her amazing defending in the WSL, so obviously Barça had their eyes on her.
Although you were happy for her, it still hurt, knowing that there would be a sea keeping you two apart, but the both of you were sure that you could do it.
After she left for Spain, you watched every single one of her matches, and she did the same for you. Even after moving teams, she would still never say the dreaded words of ‘Manchester being blue’, which never failed to make you laugh.
Until a few months later, you recieved a call from your manager wanting to discuss potential transfers, you brushed him off quickly saying how you wanted to stay at Manchester City, until you received an email later that night, with a list of all club offers.
One caught your eye, the club offering you the most money was ironic. Real Madrid.
Barcelona’s biggest rival, Camp Nou selling out every time a Barcelona vs Real Madrid match was scheduled.
You immediately called your manager, telling him to accept Real Madrid’s offer, it was a great team, and you had met a few of their players before.
After speaking to your manager, you wondered how exactly you were going to tell Ona about your transfer in the January window, and settled on a simple phone call to break the news to her.
———
Ona was currently at a team bonding night, which were now currently just an excuse to crash at Alexia’s, watch movies and eat all night.
However, recently the brunette had been missing you more than usual, she longed to hold you tight again, and missed the privilege of living with you instead of in a different country.
So when her phone rang, she couldn’t resist waiting until getting home to answer it.
Unbeknown to you, the team already knew about your two’s relationship, after Patri catching Ona watching edits of you, but Ona cut of her teasing by saying ‘She has a right to’, which gave away the fact that you were dating.
“Hola amor” Ona greeted you.
“Hola baby, I have something I need to tell you” you said, your voice sounding serious made Ona sit up straight in her seat, catching the attention of her teammates, who mouthed ‘Que?’ (what?) at her in confusion.
“What’s wrong amor, is everything okay?” Ona asked, worried about your clear state of nervousness.
“No, no nothings wrong Oni, I just thought I would tell you that I’m moving clubs.”
“That’s great, where to amor?” Ona was excited now, the thought of you moving to Barcelona to be with her, like before except this time on the same side for once.
Her teammates had caught on now, excited at the prospect of you joining the team, you were a great central midfielder, Ona offer insisted on watching your games at movie nights if they were live, so many of her teammates were aware of how useful you would be on the team.
“Uh, that’s the thing, promise you wont be mad?”
“Why would I be mad amor? I would never mind wherever you go.” Ona and her teammates were confused now, and Ona was trying to think of the possible clubs you would go to that she would be mad at, however she didn’t realise she was kidding the most obvious one.
Lucy mouthed ‘Lyon’ at her from across the sofa, and most of the girls nodded in agreement.
“Real Madrid.”
“Que?! Real Madrid! Joder!” (What?! Real Madrid! Fuck!)
This caused an outburst amongst her teammates, who were also in just as much shock as Ona about your news.
You let out a laugh at your girlfriend’s antics “Guess we’re rivals again babe”
Your girlfriend only scoffed in response, and you could just imagine the pout on her face as her teammates chatted around her.
“Guess what?” You asked once again.
“Do I really want to know? Is it better news than what I’ve just heard cariño?”
“The first match I play is against you at Camp Nou!” You said excitedly.
Ona only groaned in response.
“I can’t wait to put a few goals past you as well” you said cheekily, as you heard Ona chuckle.
“You wish amor, at least being with me will soothe the sting of your loss against us”
“I’m sure being with you will just be a bonus when we win babe” you replied whilst yawning.
“Are you tired? Go to sleep amor.” Ona said.
“Mhm, I will speak to you in the morning?”
“Sí, buenes noches cariño.”
“Night Oni” you said before hanging up the call.
———
Your signing to Real Madrid was successful, although you were sad to leave your City teammates behind, you were looking forward to playing against your girlfriend again.
As much as your girlfriend hated any colour on you apart from red and blue, she had to admit that the white and gold looked good on you, Alexia had given her a firm warning to not let your relationship affect the game, but Ona didn’t need to hear it. There was no way she was letting you win.
———
The game was intense and Barcelona were already 2 goals up thanks to Aitana and Caro, you came on in the 60th minute, returning from a minor muscle injury, ready to make a difference.
The first goal for Real Madrid came from you after only a few minutes on the pitch. Barcelona’s defence were playing high, leaving you able to get past Ona and Ingrid, and then shoot from just outside the box into the top left corner of the net.
Whilst celebrating with your teammates, you caught eyes of your girlfriend, sending her a subtle wink and a smirk, and she returned with a scoff and a shake of her head.
She could not let you past her again.
In the 80th minute, Olga passed the ball to you allowing you to begin running up the wing, however as you were about to send a cross into the box, your legs were swept from under you, your head hitting the ground leaving a ringing in your ears.
Your ankle ached, and the harsh shrill of the whistle only worsened your growing headache.
“Come on amor, get up for me por favor.” You rolled onto your back to reveal Ona stood above you, worry evident all over her face, until in contorted to one of guilt for hurting you.
However at seeing your girlfriend you forgot all about the foul she just committed on you, and instead sent her a toothy grin, which she chuckled at, before helping you up and whispering a quick apology into your ear.
Ona accepted her yellow-card graciously, and you were awarded with a free kick, which you stepped up to take.
The free kick went just where you wanted it, and immediately found the head of Caicedo, to which she slotted it into the bottom corner, running straight to you to celebrate.
With Barcelona’s recent winnings, the evened out score was unexpected, and it was obvious that many Barça players were getting annoyed, resulting in more dirtier challenges, mainly directed at you.
The game went on into extra time, the referee choosing to give 13 minutes, however it didn’t take long for you to help your team find the back of Barcelona’s net once again, nutmegging your fellow English teammate Lucy, and passing it to Raso, who was able to tap the ball into the goal to put Real Madrid in the lead.
After 4 more minutes of defending from your team, the final whistle blew.
3-2 to Real Madrid, in a sold out Camp Nou stadium.
The win was unexpected after the long list of defeats Madrid has had from Barça, as your teammates went to celebrate with fans, you instead sprinted to your girlfriend who was stood with a defeated look on her face whilst talking to Aitana, Lucy and Keira.
As much as you wanted to hug and pepper your girlfriend in kisses, the fans and cameras would catch it, so instead you settled on shaking her hand and politely asking for a jersey swap with her.
When you successfully retrieved your girlfriend’s jersey, you told her and the others ‘good game’ and told Ona you would meet her at her car, before running off to celebrate with fans.
After signing what seemed like the hundredth jersey, and taking the thousandth picture, you retreated back to the locker room, and got a quick shower before getting dressed.
Your teammates asked you to go to a bar in Barcelona with the Barça team, it was sweet how they all still wanted to celebrate with each other no matter the outcome of the game.
———
You got ready at Ona’s house after she drove the two of you there with a hand on your thigh the entire journey home.
After the two of you were ready, and after you had to push your girlfriend off you for the 8th time she tried to keep you home by attempting to persuade you with repeatedly shoving her tongue down your throat, you eventually got to the bar, only an hour late.
The adrenaline still coursing through your veins combined with the shots and drinks you had drank with your teammates, supplied you with the confidence to saunter over to your girlfriend, and sit down in her lap.
Most of the Barça team had chosen to lay of the drinks, they hadn’t won and so didn’t really feel like celebrating too heavily.
This meant that your sober girlfriend quickly noticed your tipsy state and laughed as you sent her a toothy grin, finding her lap very comfortable.
However, as your sweet pecks on her cheeks turned to you trying to now shove your tongue down her throat, the Spaniard was fast to push you back, leaving you pouting whilst waiting for her reason.
“Amor, people could see, remember?”
You replied with a huff and a simple “I don’t care!” And the continued your assault on her neck, to which she pulled you off her lap completely, leaving you whining at the loss of contact.
“Amor, not here!” Ona scolded playfully.
“I know places baby, no one would see!”
Ona only shook her head at your statement, she was not going to go any further than kissing whilst you weren’t 100% sober.
“We should probably get back, I want you to spend your last day tomorrow with me instead of hungover in bed amor”
As drunk as you were, you registered Ona’s words and agreed with her, so you let the brunette defender lead you to her car, as she took you back to hers.
———
You did not remember much from last night, your splitting headache and sore limbs only an indication of how much you had to drink last night before Ona took you home.
You reached for your phone, and were shocked to see thousands of notifications from instagram.
Opening the app, you only laughed in response to what you saw, the candid photo someone had taken was beautiful and captured the love both you and Ona felt for each other.
———
barcafanupdates
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y/n yl/n and ona batlle spotted at bar in barcelona last night.
liked by user1, user2 and 68,783 others.
comments:
user1: they’re so cute together
user2: rivals?! I want this now!
user3: stop this is so funny- the fact they’ve only ever been on rival teams.
———
yourusername
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although it was nice hidden, i guess it’s now time for the world to know your mine
tagged: onabatlle
comments:
onabatlle: amor, te amo ❤️
mapileon: I guess I can tolerate a *gag* Madrid player for Ona.
-> ingridengen: Mapi! Be nice.
user4: and they were rivals…
user5: them casually making out in a bar after Madrid defeated Barça is my Roman Empire 😭
———
551 notes · View notes
ellemaru · 9 months
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"I Like Your Bike"
Biker!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem Reader
Summary: On your way back to the hotel with friends, a shiny black motorcycle that belongs to a mysterious serviceman catches your attention.
Word Count: 1,289 Cw | Mentions of alcohol and intoxication
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A/N: The character is implied to be black, but you can imagine them however you like !
Drunken laughter mingled with the sounds of other chatter on the bustling street as you walked with your 2 girlfriends and talked with each other, recapping your first day in Manchester, England, and the first out of many stops on the two-month-long trip in Europe. Your heels had become uncomfortable long ago, making you ever so grateful that you had been smart enough to think to bring a pair of flats along as you indulged in Manchester’s nightlife. The group had barhopped and chatted with strangers all night, getting the full Manchester experience as everyone explored the city and took in the views.
As the group neared their hotel, something shiny appeared in the corner of your eye, causing you to slow down your walking speed, the swinging heels in your hand slowing down as your strides did. Your brown eyes narrowed slightly as you tried to make out what the thing was, struggling due to the fact that it was night and you were nearsighted. As you tapped your friend’s shoulder and began to walk toward the unknown object, your eyes adjusted slightly, realizing it was a motorcycle, one of the nice, slick, black ones.
You mindlessly began to run your hand along the smooth and shiny exterior of the motorcycle until a voice popped you out of the trance.
“Mate, you can’t just touch random people's bikes,” 
When you looked up, you were met with a brick wall in the form of a man. He stood around 6’3 and was obviously jacked based on the way his compression shirt hugged his pectoral muscles and biceps. His bright hazel eyes practically had you hooked already, was it the alcohol, or were they that pretty? No one knows, but you did know that this guy was HOT.
“Uhhh, I um,” you giggled and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear before remembering that 
You are NOT Debby Ryan and you are NOT on Radio Rebel
You forgot to lay the lace down again by your ear when you installed your wig earlier
The man cocked an eyebrow as he looked down at you, the action slightly concealed by the black balaclava he wore that had a skull print on it, an interesting choice considering the heat.
“Are you not hot in that mask?”
“Did you not notice your friends aren’t here anymore?” he replied with a teasing tone. 
When you turn around, you see that your friends have indeed left you with the mysterious man and continued on to their hotel.
“Lass, I think you need some better friends,” he let out a quick chuckle, like…the personification of haha.
“Your laugh is funny,” you giggle as you lean in closer to him, looking at the metal tags that hang around his neck. 
“Simon Riley,” you read his name slowly as you looked up, tilting your head to the side slightly, wondering if it was actually his name or if he was wearing a deceased relative's dog tags. He nodded as he looked back down at the smaller woman. They sat in silence for several awkward moments before you decided to break the silence.
“I like your bike,”
“Thanks,” annnnd it was back to silence again
“You don’t talk much,”
“Not much to talk about with a random drunk lass I’ve met,”
“Fair point…What kind of bike is that?” that question was all you needed to get Simon’s attention.
That one question led to a whole conversation as he explained the ins and outs of his bike which was apparently a Yamaha R1 but other than that, he was fluent in yapping. The only thing you were focused on was his deep voice, thick British accent, and the way his compression shirt hugged all the right places on his torso. It seemed he didn’t even notice that you were looking at him with hearts in your eyes, mainly due to the fact that you had drunk way too much earlier. 
“Wanna go for a ride?” he asked you as he leaned against his bike.
The first thing that ran through your mind was “What kind of ride”.
“Huh?”
“I asked do you want to ride my motorcycle with me, like, do you want to be my backpack?” he asked again, giving his signature, stereotypical haha laugh.
“Oh uhh sure! I mean um that sounds like fun or whatever,” when you caught yourself seeming too eager, you changed up the way you phrased your sentence quickly.
When he turned around to give you a jacket and a helmet, he patted his pockets like he always does when he’s missing something before groaning from annoyance and pinching the bridge of his nose with his gloved hand.
“Well, I unfortunately don’t have an extra jacket or helmet on me right now so it seems we won’t be doing any riding today, but we could always do it another time I guess, dunno,” he mumbled the last part, “How long will you be here in Manchester?” he inquired, wondering how much time he would have before you would leave the city and the country
“I think we’re going to be here for at least another week,” you shrug as you see him frantically pull out his phone, almost dropping it once before he hands it to you, the contact screen open. Once you two exchange numbers, silence falls upon the two of you again.
“I could walk you back to your hotel if you would like, I don’t like the idea of you walking alone at night, especially as a tourist. Plus my mom would kill me if she found out I didn’t offer,” he laughs as he holds out his arm towards you.
“That would be nice,” you smile as you hook your arm in his, your brown skin contrasting with his pale one. He quickly unhooks his arm to place his leather jacket over your shoulders before linking arms again and heading on your way to the hotel. During the walk back, the two of you got to know each other, learning about interests and current status in life along with cracking jokes and just breaking the ice. It was about a 15-minute walk back to the hotel and once the two of you got back, you sighed, a little sad that your time together was already over for the day.
“We’re here. Thank you for walking me back to my hotel again, it was really sweet of you to do this because you really didn’t have to,”
“Of course, what kind of man would I be if I didn’t offer?” he snapped a flower from a nearby plant and handed it to you, “a pretty flower for the pretty lass,” he winked as you took it.
“Ugh, you Brits are such charmers, I’m quite sad to say that it worked too,” you both laughed for a few moments as he unlinked your arms.
“You free tomorrow at 19:00?”
“I’m so glad I understand military time, and yes I am,”
“Alright lass, I’ll be here in the lobby then, make sure you’re on time,” he gently takes your hand in his gloved one and kisses it through his balaclava. He gives one more wink before he turns on the heels of his combat boots and strides confidently out of the hotel. You stood there, absolutely shocked at what occurred before you realized you still had on his leather jacket. You ran outside to find him and tell him he had forgotten his jacket, but by that time, he had already disappeared into the cool Summer night. At least that meant you were guaranteed to see him tomorrow because there was no way he would just forget the nice leather jacket.
721 notes · View notes
sakasinterlude · 7 months
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passionfruit | ruben dias x fem!reader
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its summer vacation and you and ruben share some quality time on a yacht.
nsfw 18+, contains smut, ends with fluff!
a/n: i wrote this a while ago and decided it deserved to be read by someone other than me, so enjoy. definitely not a city fan, but ruben is just so sexy.
“I think this is my favourite place.”
“You love Greece that much?”
“No, I meant in your arms.” You give Ruben a playful shove of the shoulder as the soft bounces of the waves below keep you distracted.
It was another warm afternoon on what felt like a never-ending vacation with your boyfriend Ruben. Everyday consisted of beautiful views, delicious meals, and the warm company of your partner. The mornings blended into nights, as you had lost track of the days you had spent away from home, using blissful orgasms as the only unit of measurements. Twelve, not that you were complaining.
You reach for the fresh fruit cut up in a small bowl to the right. You take a big bite, savouring the sweet juice of the mango, a soft hum leaves your lips.
“Here.” Offering the other half to Ruben whose eyes stay closed lying beside you, still covered by his sunglasses. He absent-mindedly opens his mouth accepting your offering, not without playfully nipping at the tips of your fingers.
“So sweet.” He mummers, pulling your leg closer across his body, drawing random shapes on the hamstring of your leg. You two had been intertwined like this for so long you almost forget where he begins and you start, with your hand wandering from his wet locks to broad strong shoulders to his tan waist.
You prop yourself up on your elbow so now you are on your side facing Ruben, leg still over his waist.
“What will we do when we go home?” You ask into the wind, letting the Mediterranean air roam through your damp hair, lightly stroking his jaw with your free hand.
“What are you talking about? This is home.”
A cheeky smirk adorns his lips as his arms wrap tighter around your waist. You can just barely see the crinkles on the corner of his eyes, assumed by his own joke.
“Don’t stress minha querida, (my dear) I just want to enjoy the last moments of peace we have before everything gets crazy again.” You know all too well the hectic schedule of your shared life back in Manchester. A mixture of stolen kisses in the morning as you depart for work well before he even wakes up, catching up over lunch where your eyes dart between his facetime call and your latest work assignment, to late night baths together where you both are too exhausted to speak, just soft hands running over the others limbs. It was difficult to find any uninterrupted time together back home.
“Your right.” You sigh bringing you bodies impossibly close.
“I am. Now it’s been way too long since I’ve made you cum.” With that his quick fingers are already pulling at your bikini strings, making their way between your legs.
If Ruben was anything as a lover, it was a tease. He loved having you on a string, bringing you oh so close to the edge, just to yank you right back with a devious smirk. And of course, despite all the love making done this trip he still never got sick of this cat and mouse game.
His mouth plays connect the dots, finding all the little nips and love marks he made previously. The sensation gives you chills in the best way, you swear you can feel it in your toes. His hands stay busy not even entering you yet, just playing with the wetness surrounding your lower lips.
“So needy aren’t you? Just dying for my fingers I’m sure.” The feeling is so sweet you can barely speak just letting out the softest yes in reply.
“Here, its your turn for a taste.” His face is so close to yours as he removes his fingers to run them along your bottom lip. With two soft taps your mouth is open, accepting his two fingers covered in a sinful mix of both of your cum, and the fruit from earlier that day.
“You love that shit, huh gato?” (sexy)Ruben was also cocky, very cocky. He knew exactly what buttons to push, using the sweet nickname that was reserved only for the most intimate moments. You close your eyes and hum, relishing in his slender fingers, sliding digit by digit into your mouth.
With little hesitation, Ruben removes his fingers sharply, making their way down under. He curls in his finger, just one at first, before rolling it out slowly, so you can feel every curve, intentionally done to manifest the most pleasure. Again, repeatedly with an additional finger, in and out, sinfully, painfully good. You hid your face within his shoulder.
“C’mon, let me see that face.” He pushes even deeper, how you are not even sure. “Let me hear that sweet voice.”
You let out a loud and long moan into the open air around you. You and Ruben often engage in shameless sex, not caring for the cries and whines created, just the pure pleasure produced. Memories of rushed moments in the bathroom of dinners, handsy uber rides, and banging neighbors in hotel rooms bring a smile to your face. This was probably the most ideal setting for the two of you to be wrapped up with each other, not a soul as far as the eye can see, nothing but endless blue water meeting endless blue skies.
Your high creeps up quickly as all you can think you is “how can he make me feel this good?”. The want and need to finish forces your legs shut, the sensation is just so strong.
Ruben’s strength quickly forces your legs flat and flush with the flimsy mattress below you, spreading your legs wide.
“I’m close, really close.” You barely have the power to say the words. Ruben removes his fingers, not for long as he moves to play with your clit. Your mouth gapes open, looking between his messy fingers at work, and his big smirk. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He places all four fingers over your bud, rubbing back and forth easily thanks to your cum. You grab at his tan veiny forearm, not to stop him, just to feel his sharp movements, wrapping yourself around his arm. You can’t take it anymore, tossing your head back, arching your back, finally cumming.
“Yes, yes, yes!” He chants right up against your ear, his words muffled and merged together into incoherent nonsense. You whine and cry, twist and curl, all while Rubens hands stay overstimulating you completely.
“Good girl, yes gato, your good, so so good.” His hand now out from your legs and  wrapped around your head, pushing your damp hair away from your face, pressing kisses and sweet words into your skin.
You look up at his soft brown eyes, they have a sparkle to them almost, maybe from the sex, maybe from the sun, but regardless you can’t look away, only pulling your face close to his. You bring your nose right up to his, maintaining eye contact, rubbing yours against his, a silent thank you of sorts. You two had many non-verbal forms of communicating, this being one of them. Ruben lets out a sigh, coupled with a dopey smile.
“There is nowhere else in the world I’d rather be.” He says sincerely, looking deep into your eyes. Eyes he’s met before hundreds of times, eyes he could write pages on the exact hues and undertones they possess. You blush deeply, bringing your hand to brush at his beard.
“I feel the same way, amour.” (love) His turn now to mimic your same blushing cheeks. “But please let me put my bottoms back on before the crew comes looking for us.”
He laughs, untangling his arms from around your body. The thought of the outside world not even crossing his mind in this moment of bliss.  
434 notes · View notes
sturniluvr · 4 months
Text
FA cup champ
Mason Mount x fem!reader
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word count: 1.5k
warnings: some strong language, maybe some spelling mistakes, nothing other than that, lmk if I missed anything.
requested: yes/no
summary: Y/N surprises Mason at the FA cup final
A/N: shoutout to my fave mase acc on tumblr @mountttmase for convincing me to write this❤️enjoy everyone!🫶🏻
❗️semi proof-read❗️
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Today was the day, May 25th, FA cup final, Manchester derby. Y/N was nervous to say the least, having grown up a Man United fan, knowing the boys were playing arguably one of the team's biggest rivals made those nerves worse. She wanted nothing more than her club to win, especially for her boyfriend of 3 years, Mason Mount. 
She was currently in the car with Mason’s family on the way to Wembley, next to the Y/H/C woman sat Summer, who was asleep in her car seat and on the other side of the sleeping girl was Jaz, Mase’s older sister and Lewis sat behind the three girls with a sleeping Mila next to him. Y/N felt a tap on her shoulder, she looked behind at Lewis. He leaned forward as much as the seat belt would allow him. 
“Does he know you’re coming?” The older man asked. She shook her head. 
“No, I told him I had to work, but I managed to convince my manager to let me have today off, thought it’d be a nice surprise.” She replied. He nodded his head in agreement and sat back in his seat. 
*little time skip*  
They had arrived at Wembley and Y/N had the job of waking summer up while Jaz quickly changed Mila’s nappy before they all headed into the stadium. 
“Sum, wake up sweetheart. We’re here.” She whispered softly to the little girl and summer stirred in her car seat. She opened her eyes and held her arms out to her auntie. Y/N picked her up out her car seat and rested the girl on her hip until she was more awake and wanted to walk. 
The adults had collectively agreed to get some food first before heading into the stadium since everyone was hungry and they were earlier than expected so they found a little restaurant up the road from the stadium and they made their way to the restaurant and had some delicious food. 
*around 2:30* 
After they finished their food, they made their way back to the stadium and headed up the stairs. As she walked up the stairs to the entrance of the stadium, all she wanted to do was go and wait for Mason to arrive but she had to stop herself so she didn’t ruin the surprise.  
“You excited to see uncle Masey?” Y/N asked summer who was holding her hand. She looked up and nodded enthusiastically with a smile on her face and a skip in her step knowing she was soon going to see her uncle. 
*time skip to kick off* 
She watched as the teams made their way out of the tunnel, she smiled at the sight of her childhood team, on the pitch ready to play and win the FA cup. Y/N and Lewis leaned forward in their seats as the whistle blew for kick off and watched intently. 
30th minute
She cheered with the United fans as Garnacho tapped the ball into the net, scoring the first goal of the match. She certainly started feeling more confident as she watched the reds play with all they could give. 
39th minute
She bit her nails as she watched Bruno beautifully pass to Kobbie and Mainoo kicked it into the back of the net, making the score 2-0 to United before half time, she shot up and cheered once again, feeling pride fill her body at how well her team was doing. 
90+2 minute
She clapped and smiled as Mase made his way onto the pitch being subbed on alongside Lindelof for McTominay and Garnacho. She was silently praying that city wouldn’t not score again and cause the match to go to extra time, she was too nervous for that. Next to the woman, she heard chants of ‘Masey’ coming from Summer. She smiled at the young girl and picked her up and rested her on her hips so that she had a slightly better view of the game. 
*time skip to full time*  
She let out a cheer with and gently jumped up and down with summer still on her hip. Man United had won the FA cup!! She was beaming with pride for Mase and her team, she was so proud of them all.  
She already had tears in her eyes from the sight of Mase lifting the trophy with the biggest grin on his face, reaching from ear to ear and his pearly whites on show, now she was crying even more seeing her team lift the trophy behind the FA cup winner banner and confetti and champagne covering them all head to toe. She physically couldn’t wipe the smile off her face. She put summer down and quickly wiped her eyes before they headed down to the pitch, she could finally see her boy and tell him just how proud she was.  
*on the pitch*  
The players had now spread out across the pitch heading to their respective families and friends. Her Y/E/C eyes landed on the love of her life, who she’d been dying to see all day. Before anyone could catch her, summer bolted towards her uncle Masey.  
“MASEY!” Summer screamed out as she ran towards him. He turned around and smiled at the sight of his niece, he opened his arms and picked her up and spun her around before sitting her on his hip. 
“Hey sweetheart, you okay?” Mason spoke softly to her. Summer nodded and smiled at him.  
Y/N stayed behind slightly to give Mason a moment with his family. She watched with a soft smile as Mason passed Summer over to Jaz so he could hug everyone else.
“There’s someone here darling.” Debbie whispered in his ear as she hugged him. The 25 year old looked around and his brown eyes locked with the Y/E/C he fell in love with 3 years ago. He made a beeline for his girl and wrapped his arms around Y/N’s torso and lifted her off the ground, she instantly wrapped her arms around his neck, placing kisses all over his face, the last one being his lips, he deepened the kiss ever so slightly and his hands made home on her hips. 
She looked up at him with a breathtaking smile, one that he immediately reciprocated. 
“I’m so fucking proud of you mase!” The woman exclaimed. He pulled her back in for another hug. One hand cupping the back of her head and the other resting on her back, he rested his head in the crook of her neck, planting sporadic kisses to her neck.  
“Thank you, baby. I’m so glad we won!” He replied, voice slightly watery with emotion. 
He lifted his head up to look at the love of his life and he smiled at her before placing a final kiss on his favourite pair of lips. It finally set in that his girl was here and not at work like she said she would be today. He looked down at Y/N and squeezed her waist slightly. 
“I thought you had work anyway cheeky. I thought your asshole of a manager wouldn’t give you the day off?” He spoke with a confused tone, Y/N let out a little laugh at the sight of her boyfriend looking like a confused puppy. 
“I managed to convince him to give me the day off, so I thought I’d surprise you.” she replied, smiling up at her winner. 
“Cheeky.” Mase chuckled, slapping her butt gently. “But thank you darling, it means the world to me for you to be here with my family” he added on, still smiling, his cheeks had started to hurt from all the smiling he’d done in the last hour. 
Interrupting their moment, Rasmus ran over to the couple, he gave Y/N a quick hug as the older woman congratulated him. 
“We gotta get going to the after party soon mase, you coming Y/N/N?” The younger man spoke with excitement in his voice.  
“Mase we gotta get to Monaco for the Grand Prix.” she spoke looking between the two footballers.  
“Love, the race isn’t until 3 we’ll be able to fly tomorrow morning and make it for the race.” Mason reassured the woman.  
“Come on Y/N let’s have a party!” Rasmus spoke in a sing song tone causing her to laugh at him. 
“What do you say baby?” Mase looked at the girl for confirmation, she threw her head back dramatically sighing.  
“Fuck it, why not.” She replied laughing as the boys cheered and wrapped their arms around her shoulders. 
“Jaz, Lew, you coming to the after party?” The siblings nodded almost immediately.  
“Mum? Dad? You coming?” Jaz looked between her parents. 
“No it’s okay, we’ll get the girls home and in bed, you kids go have fun!” Tony replied, smiling at the younger adults. Jaz passed summer to Debbie and Tony already had Mila in his arms, they left with the young girls, and the adults all made travel arrangements to get to the after party. Y/N, Lewis and Jaz got an uber and Mason and Rasmus made their way to the party on the team coach.  
They all danced the entire night. Y/N and Mason being slightly more conscious with drinking than Rasmus as they had to travel the next morning. They all laughed at Rasmus singing Abba. Y/N made a mental note to message the younger man in the morning to see how he was feeling knowing he’d he hungover. 
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328 notes · View notes
whorekneecentral · 11 months
Text
Miss Me, Miss Me
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Ruben Dias x Stones!Fem!Reader
Warnings: fwb!ruben, jack and reader are besties, alcohol and the consumption of, kyle is always annoying her, teasing, a strip tease according to reader, finger sucking, oral (f!receiving), overstimulation, fingering, orgasm denial, the use of 'whore' in a sexual/degrading context, penetrative sex (P in V ), big brother john is not having it.
Word Count: 2,952
Author's Note: this one is written solely for my pookie, that's also why ruben is so early on in this series lmao - all of these things are shit she'd eat up so pooks and everyone else, please enjoy :)
merry smutmas series
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Your brother holds his annual Christmas party and you’re forced to spend the afternoon with the one person you had been avoiding all season but tis’ the season you guess. 
Will they or won't they was the tagline for your relationship - if you could even call it that- with Ruben.
You had recently moved to Manchester to be closer to your older brother and your niece and nephew. You had gone to every home game you could and over the course of the season, you fell into a bit of a pattern with the Portuguese defender.
It was innocent enough at first, you two were friends who occasionally hooked up to relieve whatever stress you were having but over the years, it turned into more. Feelings got involved and it got messy so because of that, and for your brother's sake - despite him not knowing, you pulled away from Ruben.
It was never your intention to make things messy.
You hadn't seen Ruben face to face in weeks, if not months. You had still gone to games but you simply went for your brother and then left afterwards, not hanging around too long.
Ruben had a hold over you; you knew if you hung around him too long, you'd just end up in his bed again. That was the last thing you wanted.
Today was unavoidable though.
John was hosting his annual Christmas party at his place; old friends, a few of the boys from his time at Barnsley as well as his teammates and their families from Man City filled his house.
You were somehow, always on kid duty. You were in the room with a bunch of kids; Kevin's, John's, Phil's, Ederson's and a few others that you had no idea who they belonged to.
"Settle down," you tell them, trying to get them off the sugar rush to watch a movie. You tried to rock your nephew in one arm while you switched on the tv, the kids shouting 400 different movie titles all at once.
You huffed and your nephew began to cry just as you tried to ask which one they really wanted to watch but someone opened the door. Jack smiles at you, taking the remote from you when he sees how flustered you are.
He worked a miracle, getting them to quiet down enough for you to calm the baby and to be able to put on a movie for them. You sighed, sitting on the bean bag with the baby as the kids watched Finding Nemo.
Jack sits next to you, rubbing the baby's hand. "I heard the noise, figured I'd come check before they killed you," he whispered, making you chuckle.
"You're a lifesaver, Jack, really. You're good with them too, you and Sasha ever think of.."
"No," he laughed, shaking his head. "I mean, at least not yet."
You nod, smiling. "You'd be wonderful parents.. but you should go join the party, I'm okay in here."
"You're sure?" He gets up and you nod. "Go on, I'll come out in a bit." Jack smiles, nodding before he walks out and closes the door behind him.
It was about an hour later that Finding Nemo ended and the kids went looking for their parents. Those with kids ended up heading out, saying their goodnights before the party actually picks up.
You make your way into the kitchen to find Jack looking for something. "Missing something?" You asked, picking up a glass.
"Your brother said he had shot glasses somewhere?"
"Check the bottom cabinet, it should be in there. What are we drinking?" You asked, setting your empty glass back down.
"Whatever will get us drunk fast." He laughs and you smile, "you're just like me," you nudged his shoulder, reaching for the bottle of tequila on the counter.
Jack lines the empty shot glasses on the tray you found, letting you fill them up. The man picks one up before handing another one to you. "To.. the holidays!" He shrugs, tapping his glass to yours before you two down the shots, and two more rounds after that.
You send him on his way, the man dancing his way over to his girlfriend. You on the other hand, picked up the tray and made the rounds, offering shots to all of those who wanted them. Eventually, you find your way to the living room, the music playing in the background as some people danced and the others chatted.
"Pebbles!" Kyle shouts, his hand in the air to call you over. You roll your eyes, walking over to the group of men by the couch. "How many times have I told you not to call me that, walks?" You laughed.
Kyle puts an arm around your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "You're pebbles cause Johnny is Stones and you're the little one!"
You laughed, shaking your head. "Very original, Kyle. Anyone want a shot?" You offered, holding the tray out.
John takes one, passing another one to Ruben who you've yet to look at. Kyle grabs one for himself and you go to walk away but your brother grabs your arm, bringing you back. John's arm is over your shoulder now, pulling you into his side.
"Have one with us! You're grown up now, aren't you?" He teased, nudging you to take a shot with them. You and John were only a few years apart; he was 29 and you were 24.
You nod, picking up a shot glass. "Cheers!" Kyle shouts over the music, the 4 of you tapping your glasses together before downing the contents.
Some of the tequila ended up on your fingers during the toast, your finger instinctively ended up between your lips and you don't miss the feeling of Ruben's eyes on you. Looking up, your eyes meet his and you move your hand.
"Can I go now?" You asked your brother, and he nodded before kissing your temple. "You're free to go. Go eat something before you feel sick though."
"Should take your own advice, Stones." You tell him and he tosses you a glare. "Whatever, pebbles."
Kyle and John laugh at the use of the nickname and you flip them both off, laughing as you walk away.
The night turned out to be good, you ended up hanging out with Jack and Sasha for a bit before Kyle pulled you to dance with him. He was telling John he knows how to waltz, he just needed a good partner. You were confused as to what made you qualify as a good partner but you went along with it.
At this point, everyone had left and whoever was left, was drunk as fuck and on the verge of passing out.
You slowly make your way upstairs, you have just put away the leftovers and locked the front door for the night. You walked into your room for the night, unzipping your dress as you bent over to pull some pjs out of your bag.
The knob turns and then the door unlocked, someone steps in. "Hello, what the fuck? I'm changing-" you freeze when you turn around to see who it is.
Ruben stood by the door. "It's just me."
"Okay and?" You look at him, confused as to why he's in your room. "Just because it's you, doesn't mean that gives you a right to be in here."
"It's nothing I haven't seen before, love." He smiles at you and you resist the urge to roll your eyes when he says that.
"Fuck off, will you?" You turn away from the man, your back to him as you went to get changed for bed.
Ruben doesn't take no for an answer; in life and on the pitch. He walks over to you, "don't be like that, y/n. You know I miss you," his hand rests on your hip, pulling you to him.
It was so easy for him - your mind is screaming no but your body's betraying you, giving into him before you could stop yourself.
"You don't miss me, Ruben. Shut up." You whispered, the man lowered his lips to your neck. A trail of kisses from the base of your neck up to your jaw, you're certain there's red marks all over your neck from his beard scratching on you.
Your hand instinctively reaches for his face, your palm's warm against his skin; there your body goes, betraying you again.
"I miss you, I do," he whispers against your skin, his hand sliding between the two of you, from your hip to your back. The fact that your dress was unzipped gave him free rein, his fingers running along your spine, finally resting on the curve of your spine.
"Rubes-" you breathe, feeling him suck on the sensitive spot on your neck. "We can't."
He nods, "we can."
"John could walk in."
The thought made Ruben chuckle. Yes, it'd be a mess, it would get both of you in a lot of trouble but the fact that you, at your grown age, were scared of your older brother catching you with his friend, was funny to him.
"John's passed out drunk on the couch, sweetheart. No one's coming, it's just me and you."
You turn to face the man, Ruben's chest to yours; the first few buttons of his shirt undone, the black fabric tight on his arms and the sleeve were rolled up to his elbows. Was he always such a slut or did he only recently become one?
He's already pulling the straps of your dress off your shoulders and you don't stop him, letting it fall to the floor and pool around your ankles.
Ruben's hands reach for your face, cupping your jaw. "C'mon baby, I miss you." He whispers into the quiet room, his lips ghosting over yours.
Hands wrapping around his wrists, "I miss you too." You admit, giving into him. You pull Ruben into you, kissing him.
It doesn't take long, the two of you stumbling back to the bed. Ruben ends up on top of you, your legs wrapped around him as he moves you to lay properly. He pulls away from your kiss and your wandering hands, earning him a pout.
"Why'd you stop?" You groaned, Ruben smiles at you whining as he stands, undoing the rest of the buttons on his shirt before taking it off.
You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking at the man. "Mhm, all for me?" You raised your eyebrows, making him laugh.
"Everything's for you, baby. It always is." He tells you, dropping to his knees in front of you.
The words and his actions made your head spin, you were constantly swooning over the man and today was no exception.
Ruben's lips were soft, the faintest of kisses trailed up from your calf to your thigh and he let your leg hang over his shoulder as he pulled you to the edge of the bed. You’ve propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him and Ruben drags his fingers up your thigh, moving to your clothed pussy. 
"Please," you mumble, looking down at the man. Ruben smiles, "not in the mood for teasing, sweetheart?"
"Fuck you Ruben," you groaned, dropping back into the mattress when he pulls the panties to the side, his eyes fixed on your pussy but his hand reaches up, pushing two fingers in your mouth. He didn’t have to tell you, your tongue laps over his fingers. 
“Taught you well,” he smiles, pulling his fingers away from your mouth. 
He gives you no warning, pushing his fingers into you. The sound leaving your mouth was like heaven on earth to him. 
His fingers curl upwards, your back arching at the feeling. 
“Rube, please.” Your hand reaches down to wrap on his wrist but he swats your hand away, managing to pull both to rest on your stomach and his free hand over your hands, pinning them to your stomach. 
Your eyes fixed on the man between your legs, looking at him in awe. Something about Ruben fascinated you; you could never put your finger on it but he was always an object of fascination, of desire. Everything about him made you want him, you couldn't explain the attraction.
It just made sense to you.
Your hips buck when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his hair. 
Ruben knew you like the back of his hand, even with the time apart. Something didn't change and the way your hips buck, it's your way of saying you want more, who was Ruben not to give into you?
His fingers curl upwards once again and he glances up to see your head tossed back into the mattress, eyes fluttering shut.
Between his fingers and his tongue, your orgasm was teetering on the edge; he knew that much. 
Ruben pulls his hands away, the sticky fingers on your thighs. A whimper leaves your lips at the loss of fullness. 
"What the fuck?" You groaned, an arm over your face. If you looked at Ruben right now, you might kill him.
The clink of his belt gets your attention - maybe you'd finally get what you wanted.
Ruben scoots you back, getting on the bed, on top of you. He leans down, his lips over yours and you reach up, a hand on the back of his neck to pull him down for a kiss; you can taste yourself on his lips. He lifts your leg, resting on your hip before he lines himself up with you.
The way the tip of his cock rubbed against you and the fact that you were already on the edge from before was enough to make you beg.
"Please, Ruben."
"Please what?" He looks down at you, smiling sweetly.
Your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. "Ruben," you whined, lifting your hips towards him. "Please, fuck- god just fuck me already."
Ruben smiles, "those words really shouldn't be in the same sentence, you know." He tells you, pushing into you. You moan, ignoring his words at the moment.
Your hand wraps around his bicep, your manicured nails digging into his skin. He didn't mind the pain, especially if it was your doing.
Your legs wrapped around his waist, Ruben's thrusts were slow and deep- you can feel him everywhere, his hands, his lips, his touch. Everything about Ruben was consuming; he knew that and he loved it.
In some sick way, he loved watching you fall in love with him all over again, seeing the effect he had on you.
Ruben pulls your legs back up to his hip. “Fuck,” you breathe, his thrusts faster and harder.
How you wished you could scream his name right now.
His hand drops between the two of you, rubbing your clit; matching the pace of his hips. Your head falls back into the pillows when he hits the spot he was looking for. His fingers that were previous on your clit now shoved into your mouth to muffle the sounds tumbling from your lips.
Ruben leans down, his lips next to your ear; “you have to be quiet, you don't want everyone to know what a whore you are, do you?”
You mumble something along an okay, your hips bucking, telling him you want more. He holds you, managing to flip you two over so that you're on top and his cock is still buried in you.
He lets you take over, setting the pace and using him for your own pleasure.
“Ruben, god-” you mumble, your hand tangled in his dark hair as you bounced up and down.
"Not quite," he whispers, pulling you down to kiss along your neck. Ruben's hand behind your neck to pull you down for a kiss. “Want you to cum for me.”
His arms wrap around you when you drop against him, your face buried against his shoulder, biting down to muffle the sounds. “Good girl,” he hums, rubbing your back. "Mhm I love you." He whispers into your shoulder.
You huff, "shut up, don't ruin this for me." Ruben laughs, "whatever you say, baby. I do."
"I'm so thirsty," you get off of him, yawning.
Ruben looks over at you, "you want another round?" You roll your eyes, "not what I meant, you freak."
You get up, pulling on his shirt and a pair of shorts. Ruben lays in bed, watching as you buttoned it up. "Don't look at me like that." You tell him and he laughs, "like what, love?"
"Like you want to fuck me."
"I just did," he smiles. You roll your eyes again, something you did often in his presence. "I'm going to get water," you tell him before heading down the stairs.
When your brother hears the creaking on the stairs, he sits up, rubbing his eyes before looking over in your direction. "Y/n?"
"Johnny?" You freeze, looking at him.
"Whose shirt is that?" He asks and you look down at the black button up. "Uh, mine."
John nods, dropping down onto the couch once again. You grab the bottle of water, walking back into the living room to toss the blanket over your brother. You lean down, kissing his head before turning to head back towards the stairs.
He reaches out from under the blanket, grabbing your hand to stop you. "You better get Ruben out of my house before I get up, or I'll kill him."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," you tell him and your brother lets go of your hand, a sly smile on his face. "Yeah, okay. Maybe you two should shut up next time, or don't do it in my house? Perhaps don't wear a shirt that reeks of his cologne."
"Shut up, go back to sleep," you push him back into the couch before walking away.
--
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delfiore · 1 year
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—MY DEAREST FRIEND AND ENEMY. (1/5)
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pairing: ona batlle x fem!reader
synopsis: you were ona’s biggest headache at man united, until you both move to barcelona.
word count: 3.7k
a/n: i’ve been watching the men’s game for years but i’ve finally sobered FINAL TODAY LET’S GO ENGLAND LET’S GO SPAIN (MOSTLY SPAIN)
PART II, PART III, PART IV, PART V
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It started four years ago when Ona first signed for United. She didn’t notice at first the way you were always gunning for her, she was just doing her job.
But now, you were here in Barcelona with her. As she looked up at you, a soft smile on your face, everything she had buried in the past year all came rushing back.
Everyone was aware of the new signing from the States for her rival club just a couple of weeks before, a dragged-out saga of whether you were going to choose City or United. Unfortunately for her, you chose the Sky Blues.
If things had been different, maybe she wouldn’t have despised you as much as she did.
The first Manchester derby you played, she thought marking you would be easy until you dribbled past her several times to register a goal and assist. She must have been glowering at you when she walked back to the midfield line, because you shrugged before grinning at her, saying: “All in a day’s work.”
“Could I just ask what put Man City above all the other contenders for your signature?” “Well, I mean, it’s a great club with a great history, amazing players too. I’ve spoken at length with the new manager and he gave me a rough plan for next year’s project. So I’m really excited and confident that it’ll be a great destination for me.” “What do you say to the people who think you’ve chosen City for the money?” “People can think whatever they want to think. I’ll just play my game, and they can judge me all they want. It’s all anyone’s good for.” “You’ve just transferred from Portland, you’ve got an enormous price tag for the women’s game, tons of big clubs in Europe wanted you. There’s a mounting pressure on you, it seems. Do you think you’ll be up for the challenge of the Women’s Super League?” “It’s no fun if it’s not a challenge.”
Ona Batlle was what people considered a modern full-back, dangerous in attack just as she was solid in defense. But when playing against Man City, she usually has to stay back to avoid a dangerous winger finding their way into the box; you. It wasn’t her way of playing, and it frustrated her that that was what her role was while her team was struggling to create chances, especially when she knew she could help.
“I want you to stay back and mark Y/L/N. Whatever you do, do not let her out of your sight,” Casey had told her.
She hated you for caging her in, and the worst part was she wasn’t sure if she can stop you sometimes.
The night before her next game against you, she watched how you played the previous match, studied your movement carefully, and took notes. She liked that she had found a pattern. You liked to use your speed, but you also liked to taunt your defenders; a pace of prime Thierry Henry’s, and showboating tendencies like that of Neymar. It’s why you were so entertaining to watch, because every defender you faced ended up a sort of decoration to your parlor tricks, her included.
Ona never liked being second best to anybody, and certainly not to you.
And so when she was on the pitch, zeroing on you like a hawk, there was nothing stopping her from getting away from you. She didn’t need to resort to any risky challenges, she just needed to stick with you, keep you at arm’s length, and stay between you and the goal at all costs.
You may be a skilled player for your age, but controlling your temper is something you haven’t been able to achieve. She heard you cursing a few times, eventually earning you a yellow card when your insults were directed at the referee.
The ball had only left the City’s goalkeeper, Roebuck, yet she already felt you pushing back against her.
The game ended 3-1 for United, but she was secretly much happier that she had managed to piss you off so much, that you didn’t bother shaking hands with her afterwards.
“Congratulations, Ona. A huge victory for United. What do you think went well today?” “I think that our plans worked because we practiced and showed what we’re able to do. We didn’t have a lot of possession, but we focused on the counterattacks, and I think that definitely was a very effective tactic today.” “I have to ask you about Y/N Y/L/N. She’s been a formidable player in the league until now, and notoriously difficult to defend against, but she was practically silenced today on the left-hand side. Do you think you had something to do with that?” “I think what I’ve prepared in defense has worked out, for sure. I’ve also got my teammates to thank for covering the grounds for me. Y/L/N is a good player, and it’s always a joy to play against her.”
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Her rivalry with you continued, and soon even the press was picking up on it. Manchester derbies now included Y/L/N v. Batlle, and everyone was predicting what crazy thing would happen next. It wasn’t common for defenders to make waves in the paper compared to superstar strikers or even midfielders unless they were linked with a big move. But soon Ona was reading about herself in the news, how she has defended Manchester United’s left wing with an iron grip, how they started calling her la matadora, for her ability to hold off forwards and tame them like bullfighters do.
One bull remained to be tamed though, and her conundrum continued into her second season at United.
Unlike her, you seemed to take the new breath of fame easily enough. Day in and day out, there were news of you scoring goals and bringing Man City to the top of the table by November.
You were born to be a star.
But Ona knew from shooting stars in the game that burned out too quickly; if you let what’s outside the pitch get to you, you might as well just leave it altogether. You might have been a good player, on your way to becoming a great one even, but you did have a flare for the dramatics which riled up the press quite a bit. If she was lucky, maybe the pressure would take you out of the game before she does.
International breaks were times she always look forward to, being able to represent her country. Even if they were friendly matches, she knew Spain was always being watched, as a team’s form was important on the world stage. The team would play two friendly matches, the first one being against Brazil and the other against the United States. Some friendly fixtures . . .
Brazil was a breeze, mainly because she wouldn’t have to face her biggest adversary. Naturally, you were called up to your national team, and the back-and-forth game persisted.
She had played against you many times at club level, but the way you played for your country was something else. There was more passion to the way you weave your way through defenders, more flare to your shots. It could also be the adrenaline of being called up for the first time, and wanting to prove yourself—she knew that feeling well.
It didn’t come as a surprise, then, that when a long ball was played over the defense line and Marta Cardona was on her way towards goal, you’d be there to strike her down right at the edge of the box. Her teammates appealed, and the referee paused the game, but all Ona saw was red. With a speed she didn’t know she had in her, she sprinted to you and shoved you away as you were bending down in a show of checking on Marta.
“What was that?! You could have broken her ankle, cabrona!”
“Watch it.”
You had never seen her so angry before—her jaw locked as she continued to hurl insults at you. If she wasn’t your mortal enemy maybe you could have found it attractive. So you pushed back, and soon both your teammates and hers crowded around you, trying to separate you. Kelley put her arm around your neck and walked away, telling you to “keep your cool, this is only a friendly”.
Never, you thought. Never while I’m playing against her.
You apologized to Marta eventually, and she was cool with it. “Heat of the moment”, she said, and you were grateful. You never meant to hurt anyone. Sometimes you just couldn’t control your adrenaline spike.
As expected, Ona didn’t even look at you after the match. So you went home with Marta.
The next morning at breakfast, Ona heard laughing from the girls surrounding Marta.
“How was your American late-night snack, Marta?” Leila laughed.
The girl only shook her head with a grin. “It was delicious, alright.”
Ona didn’t know what that twisted feeling in her gut was when she heard what Marta said, as she walked back to her hotel room after breakfast. She just knew that as long as she was alive, you were the most despicable person she knew.
ESPN: Y/L/N-Batlle Feud Continues, Bonmatí Controls Midfield in Spain-USWNT Clash “LOS ANGELES -- Thursday night saw a friendly match between Spain’s women's national team and the USWNT at the Snapdragon Stadium that ended in a 2-2 draw. Several debutants started for both teams, including Man City powerhouse Y/N Y/L/N. After a stunning cross into the box from the left for Mallory Pugh to tap in, a dangerous slide tackle on Marta Cardona ensured Y/L/N to be the heart of a confrontation between several players, including Ona Batlle. It seems their club rivalry persists as they were seen giving each other a very clear piece of their minds, and several clashes succeeded the Cardona tackle. It would have been a good performance for both if not for the slip of attitude. One thing is clear, though; the mentality is there, and it sure is entertaining to watch. […]”
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The end of the season was fast approaching, and while you had become a thorn in her side, it came to a point in which she would not think about you until a week before a clash. This one in particular was crucial in the race for a Champions League spot that both Manchester clubs were vying for. She knew what it meant for the club to secure a UCL spot for the first time, and you were not about to ruin it for her.
Tooney and Millie invited her out for dinner the night before the derby, but she turned them down, opting for a quiet night in instead. After a few hours, however, she suddenly felt antsy, the anticipation before the game nipping at her. It was only 7pm when she checked and she decided to go for a run. She followed the familiar path she always takes to the nearby park, and she was glad she did because the sun was going down, leaving a glorious trail of orange in the sky. She loved these peaceful moments, away from adrenaline, away from the constant pressure, away from constantly having to push herself or she’d be called ‘lazy’.
A constant huffing sound appeared next to her, and when Ona looked down she saw an adorable corgi looking up at her while wagging its tail.
“Hello,” she bent down and pet the dog. Loving the attention, the little corgi jumped up in an attempt to lick her face, to which she let out a laugh.
“Bratwurst! Come back here!” She heard a voice call in the distance, which she assumed must have been the owner. “Sorry, he loves people.”
Ona looked up, and her face dropped. You did the same, standing frozen in front of her. Bratwurst was jumping up and down before you, probably excited that he received pets from someone else today.
She had never seen you in plain clothes before. You clearly knew how to dress yourself, because she might have admitted that you looked good if she didn’t hate you so much. But it was difficult to see you as anything else other than Y/N Y/L/N, Manchester City winger, and potentially Golden Boot winner this season by the looks of it.
And yet, she sat down on a nearby bench with you anyway, watching Bratwurst stick his butt in the air, attempting to catch a squirrel.
“I named him Bratwurst ‘cause he’s . . . long, you know?” You chuckled. ”Short form is Brat too, that’s kinda funny.”
In a sea of northern Englishmen, she never got to hear your American accent properly as she’d only heard you speak no more than two words to her, and most of the time they weren’t pleasant.
“How do you have time to own a dog?” She asked.
“He’s a foster. I just got him a couple of weeks ago.” You looked down at your fingers. “It’s nice to have him to come home to.”
The conversation died down, and suddenly Ona felt like this was a mistake. Maybe she should just leave, and continue her run. But she saw a different side to you—a gentler, quieter side unlike the boastful player she knew you as—and she wasn’t sure whether it was a good thing or not.
“Are you planning on adopting him permanently?”
“Maybe. I just want to make sure that I’m settled before making him move.”
You leaned back, placed your arm on the bench, and closed your eyes.
“You don’t want to stay in Manchester?”
“I don’t know yet. Why, would you be happy if I did?” You smirked, and she saw a glimpse of that player again.
Yes. “Your presence doesn’t bother me. It doesn’t bring me any joy either.”
“Just face it, Batlle.” You turned your body to her. “I get under your skin, don’t I?”
Ona blinked, her jaw clenching. “You don’t intimidate me, Y/L/N. You might be used to people bowing at your feet, but I won’t let you walk all over me. We will win tomorrow, and you might think to show some respect for others in the game.”
“Sorry, Batlle, can’t let you win. We’re playing Champions League next season.” You really enjoyed taunting her.
Ona huffed and stood up. As she walked away, she heard you call out to her. “See you on the pitch tomorrow, la matadora!”
There was nothing you could ever do to make yourself less hateful in her eyes.
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It was matchday, kick-off time. Ona saw you on the other side of the midfield line. “Remember what you came here to do, and finish the job,” Marc had told them in the dressing room. He was right. She had a job to do, and she wasn’t about to let you ruin that for her.
They were to play with a high line today, which required Ona to stay near the midfield line and run back, should a forward slip through. About halfway through the first half, she had a startling realization; you were dropping back too, playing a number-10 role. It meant that she couldn’t do what she did last time you met, because there would be a gaping hole where she covers.
United was leading 1-0 by halftime, and while they had the advantage, the fight was far from over.
“Okay, ladies. Have a drink and take a seat,” Marc stood at the front of the dressing room. “We’re doing good, we’re holding them off. Keep up the pressure.”
Ona sat back to catch her breath. You were much more versatile than she thought, and maybe that was her mistake for underestimating you. It seemed too easy that you were giving her exactly what she wanted, playing high at the flank like she always does. There was more to it, but she needed to adapt.
Ona held your gaze for a moment across the field. You weren’t giving up. It seemed you were confident enough in whatever wicked plan you still had up your sleeve, that you sent her a smirk back.
It was the 70th minute of the game and they were so close to achieving it. Katie was looking for a pass, so Ona made herself available.
There was empty space near the side of the box, and she wanted to utilize it but it meant having to get past a couple of defenders.
“Vilde! 1, 2!” She called, passed the ball to her teammate, and started running. Her momentum was halted when Vilde’s ball was cut off and instantly launched forward.
The counterattack came so quickly, it must have been what you practiced. 1-1.
Suddenly, the tides have shifted. The momentum was with City. Time was running out, and the sudden goal disoriented her team. It took about five minutes for everyone to get their head back into the game, but Ona could tell City were used to having possession by then.
And then, in the 88th minute, you were given the ball from the left. Everyone except Alessia had dropped back to defend a series of dangerous balls up until now. You didn’t have anyone to pass to without getting intercepted, and you were outside of the box. So you took the shot. She watched helplessly as the ball flew past Mary into the top right corner.
1-2.
Ona’s body ran cold as she watched you celebrate with your teammates.
When the final whistle came shortly after, she collapsed on her knees.
Some of her teammates were there to console her, but she let their comfort pass through her. She needed to break something.
She needed to get away from everyone and found a spot near the bathrooms where she could catch her breath. Her boots were dangling from her hand by the laces. She slumped against a wall and began to cry, the boots clattering next to her on the floor.
It wasn’t that she was sad to have lost—she blamed herself for letting you get to her head. The interaction of the day before got her thinking what ifs. What if we didn’t meet under these circumstances? What if I could have just gotten to know you without wanting to rip your head off every time I see you?
You heard quiet sobs down the hallway and knew it was her. You had quickly gone into the tunnel when you didn’t see her anywhere on the pitch, but you certainly weren’t expecting to see her cry.
“Batlle?” You called.
She didn’t seem to notice you, sitting against the wall and wiping her face with her shirt.
“Hey, it’s okay.” That was a stupid thing to say considering you just beat her out of a Champions League spot, of course it’s not okay.
“I’m really not in the mood,” she said, looking away.
“You did good out there,” you said, watching her anxiously.
“Don’t act like you care,” she sniffled. “You got what you wanted.”
“I’m not as heartless as you think, Ona.” You quipped back. “I’m not sorry that we won, but I am sorry that you’re hurt.”
“Why are you doing this to me?” She sobbed and glared at you. It sent a chill down your bones. “I wish we had never met.”
How do you tell her that you never meant for things to go this way? That every word you had ever said to her didn’t stem from malice but from fear? You had wished to push her away so that you don’t collide with her head-on. How do you tell her that no matter how hard you tried, you still gravitated toward her?
“I’m sorry.” You repeated, like a fool.
She was hurting because of you.
You snuck a glance at the form of the girl in front of you, like you would be penalized if you were caught looking at her. You took a step back to go, but she held onto your arm and pulled your body against her.
You had been fantasizing about having your mouth against her for months, usually in absurd circumstances, like you two making out in a bed of roses or you giving her a kiss after she, a masked superhero, saved you from danger. Never like this, muscles aching, sweat coating your foreheads, wearing your respective uniforms—being so you doing this.
You wanted to enjoy it. Her lips were soft and salty, and she might have secured you by the waist against her. Your knees trembled as you sighed into her lips, pushing her against the wall gently. Your hesitancy soon turned into hunger, as you pressed your body into hers, desperate to feel her.
Murmurs in the distance snapped you out of it. “Where’s Ona?” You made out one of the voices saying.
You looked back at her, your faces just inches away. You never noticed, but she had so many beautiful freckles adorning her face.
“Ona—“ You said, but she quickly picked up her boots and left towards the voices.
Chest heaving and head spinning, you slumped against the wall with a small grin, bringing your fingers up to touch your lips where she had been.
“Where have you been?” Keira asked in the dressing room, but you just shook your head.
“Just to the bathroom.”
Sky Sports: Man City’s Talisman Y/N Y/L/N Nets Stunning Late Goal Against Man United To Secure UWCL Spot […]
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a/n: this gif is so y/n and ona coded
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desperate-gay · 1 year
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Electric Love
Esme Morgan x fem!reader
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Now’s her chance to finally do it. She’s been holding it off for god knows how long, but thanks to this TikTok trend, something is finally giving her the guts she needs to do it.
Esme has been in love with you ever since you both met. You’re best friends. You were there together waiting and hoping for a call-up to play for the England national team; you were there together when you both signed with Manchester City; you were and are always together in everything. That is what’s been holding her back; she’s afraid of losing you, but from the constant reassurance from Lauren Hemp, telling her you definitely feel the same, she’s going to follow this trend and hope for the best.
You’re not very up-to-date with social media. Sure, you have insta, but mainly just to promote your teams and matches with the occasional photo of you with some friends. To you, social media is just a dark hole waiting to eat you up and make you feel bad about yourself. Obviously, you know there are good parts to it, and you don’t try to convince people to get off it, but you prefer just not to have it and enjoy what’s in front of you.
Esme admires that about you. You’re one of the very few people in the world who sees more positive than negative in situations. In training and on the field, you are constantly cracking jokes and saying words of encouragement to hopefully make your teammates crack a smile or feel more motivated.
Back to the current situation, Esme is in your kitchen, setting her phone up against the toaster and making sure the sound is the right one. You’re just finishing your special apple and cinnamon cookies and putting them on a plate.
“Y/n!” Esme calls out from across the room, making you grab the plate and walk over to the blonde.
“What’s going on?” You bite into a cookie and innocently look into the camera in front of you. Turning back to look at the taller girl, you raise the dessert closer to her face, silently asking her if she wants a bite. She politely shakes her head and grabs the cookie and plate from your hands before setting them on the counter. “Ez, you’re trembling. Are you okay?”
Esme hasn’t noticed her hands shaking until you point it out. She started the song a little before the climax so she could get a bit of a head start, but now it’s coming close. Her hands reach out for your waist and pull you in.
“Ez, what’s going on with you? You’re freaking me out a little-“
You’re cut off when the taller girl leans down and smashes her lips against yours. The quiet noise of the music plays in the background while her soft lips press against yours. She pulls back to see your reaction, which is you smiling up at her. She’s shocked when you wrap your hands behind her neck and pull her down to connect your lips once again. This one lasts a little longer, but you both break it because you both start to smile into it, making it hard to keep your lips locked together.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” Esme admits sheepishly with your foreheads pressed together.
“Then why didn’t you?” She’s slightly taken aback by your question. She’s quite taken aback by this whole thing. How you didn’t push her away, how you pulled her in for another kiss, and now your question.
“Huh?” Esme crinkles her nose and mentally slaps herself at the stupid question, but it makes you giggle and smile brightly at her.
“I asked, why didn’t you? If you’ve been wanting to do it for so long, you should’ve done it before.” Your hands are still wrapped around her neck, now rubbing your thumbs along her skin. Esme notices your eyes switching between each of hers, causing her to melt into the floor.
“I was afraid you didn’t see me that way, and I couldn’t lose you like that.” The blonde murmurs bashfully, looking down at her feet. She is fully aware of the music repeating itself in the background due to the video being over, but you’re both far too distracted to care.
“You could never lose me. If you robbed a bank, I’d be the getaway driver. And there is absolutely no way I would ever not like you. I mean, have you seen yourself? You’re beautiful both inside and out. I have had feelings for you for years.”
She gasps at your confession and places a hand over her heart. “You interrogate me for not telling you sooner when the truth is you could have done the same thing!”
In response, you shrug and say, "Well, what’s the fun in that?” You place a sweet kiss on her cheek and grab the plate of cookies before running away.
“Hey! What does that mean?”
While you’re both cuddled up on the couch watching Hocus Pocus, Esme pulls out her phone and goes into her drafts. She edits the video to her liking before posting it with the caption, ‘Thank you, Hempo and Tiktok, for giving me the courage to tell my best friend about my feelings. It's time to see how well she can deal with me as a girlfriend<3’.
She puts her phone down after hitting the post button, while you nuzzle further into her chest.
“I’m really glad you kissed me today.” Your voice is a little muffled from the blanket cuddled into your face. She places a tender kiss on her temple and rubs her hand up and down your arm.
“There will be plenty of more to come.”
She wasn’t wrong.
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onabatlle-2 · 2 years
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you make me happy 😁, via leila and ona’s ig stories, 21/2/23
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benedictscanvas · 1 year
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be still, my foolish heart [1] - jamie tartt x reader
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pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader
word count: 2.5k
series warnings: lots of language throughout, some allusions to smut but nothing explicit, a LOT of fucking fluff mostly ngl
a/n: eeeek i have been furiously writing this the last few days and now that a few chapters are done i'm desperate to share. chapters will be out regularly, every couple of days or so. really hope you lot enjoy this one, i'm so grateful for all the recent love <3
series summary: when jamie gets called up to the england team for the first time, he's terrified. enter you, all smiles and swearing, and suddenly his only fear is falling head over boots for you.
next chapter | series masterlist
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chapter one: to be alone with you
Jamie hadn’t found himself this nervous in quite a while. He’d been worried when he came back to Richmond of course - trying to prove to his team that he’d changed, that he was there for the right reasons, was a challenge. But he’d overcome it and now he had a family for the rest of his life. He thought very little could make him properly nervous anymore.
That was until he was sat in his childhood home, clutching his mum for dear life as they waited for the England team to be officially announced, refreshing the page over and over and over again on his phone. When it appeared at 2pm like clockwork and his eyes scanned the list of forwards only to find the name Jamie Tartt as clear as day, he was up in a moment, him and his mum screaming as they hugged each other and bounced around the room.
It had been the same at Richmond the next day, the congratulations coming thick and fast. He was overwhelmed and excited and eager to chat to every single person who’d listen to him about his dream coming true, but the nerves only kicked in when he was sat in a car with tinted windows a couple of weeks later, arriving at the training ground for his first ever training sessions, which would turn into his first ever England matches in just a few weeks time.
He didn’t know anyone here apart from a few Manchester City players who he had never said goodbye to, so he had no idea what they’d think of him. Sometimes, on a not-so-good day, his mind would wander to the idea of his old City mates laughing together about the shit he’d gotten up to the night before on Lust Conquers All. He hated thinking about it. He knew seeing their faces again would make him think about it more.
It had only been a few days but he missed Sam. Isaac and Colin and Beard and Ted and Keeley and Roy. Roy would have something so simultaneously horrible and inspiring to say to him right now. Richmond had become such a family, it was difficult to imagine playing football with anyone else.
“This is it, Mr Tartt,” the driver says, and that makes him feel even worse because Mr Tartt is his dad and he is not his dad. He hadn’t even realised they’d pulled into a car park.
“Just Jamie, yeah?” he says rather than running away as he gets out of the car. The man smiled, passed him the suitcase that had been sat in the boot of the car and drove off without a word. Now he was really alone.
He pulled his headphones from around his neck and placed them on his head, putting the playlist that the boys had curated for him back on. Ted had made everyone make a playlist for the boys on international duty over the summer, ‘somethin’ to remind you of home’, he’d said, and Jamie had honestly thought it was weird.
Now he was listening to ‘Adventure of a Lifetime’ by Coldplay, added to the playlist by none other than Ted himself, and he had to admit - it was catchy. And it reminded him of home.
He looked around for the entrance and spotted one other young man who he recognised from Liverpool making his way in at an entrance to his left, so he made a beeline for it.
He was just reaching the doors when a woman leaned into his eyeline just enough to catch his attention, just ahead of the doors. He was quick to tear the headphones from his head to avoid looking rude - it was his worst fear.
“Sorry, did ya say somethin’?” he asked, trying to wear a bright smile even if he knew it would come off a little worn. You appeared unphased, wearing a far brighter grin that he knew he could ever manage. It was warm; you were warm. And incredibly pretty, even though he was less keen on how quickly he noticed that.
“I tried to tell them that this whole thing would be a bit awkward when you had headphones on,” you said, and as he stepped closer to have a conversation, it was easier to notice that you were actually quite flustered, the bright grin masking some embarrassment, “I’m part of the PR team, we’re just doing some content for the Instagram. Ask the players what music they’re listening to when they walk in, people go crazy for it. If you’re trying to become the summer’s heartthrob, I recommend saying Taylor Swift.”
“They’re supposed to tell the truth!” a man beside you piped up, all nasal, but Jamie barely spared him a glance. He was still a little caught up in how pretty you really were the closer he got. You were very fucking pretty now that he was a couple of metres away, leaning on the handle of his suitcase. He scolded himself for even thinking about flirting with you.
You, now looking at the man who’d spoken as if you’d just remembered he was there. You cleared your throat.
“No, I know, sorry. I was just fucking with you,” you confirmed, turning back to Jamie, then wincing, “Playing with you, I mean. I swear I’m a very professional person and I don’t swear that much. At work.”
Jamie only realised a few moments into the silence that you were waiting for him to speak. He could feel the heat in his cheeks he had been desperate to keep at bay.
“I swear all the time,” he said, already kicking himself for how stupid that sounded, “Work or no work. Swear as much as you fuckin’ like.”
He can see at least a bit of your embarrassment leaking away, so maybe it hadn’t been such a stupid thing to say after all.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” you say, head tilted in a way Jamie can only describe as fuckin’ adorable. All too quickly, you seem to snap back into work mode, “Anyway, Brian’s right. The truth would be preferable, but if the truth is Taylor Swift, good for you! Any chance you’d be willing to walk backwards a bit, then pretend to do this again for the camera?”
You had the decency to look embarrassed, again, to be asking, but he was quite sure he’d do whatever you wanted him to with those wide, pleading eyes of yours. Just the little kindness you’d provided had washed away a lot of the deep-seated fear he’d been feeling just moments prior. He’d do what he could to repay the favour.
“Yeah, ‘course, whatever you need. Just walk up, pretend I hear your question with me headphones on and then…answer?”
“You’re a natural, Jamie Tartt,” you offer up, signalling who he assumed was Brian to raise his camera back up and get ready. He can’t help himself, just like with his driver, although this time he hopes he won’t get blanked.
“Just Jamie, eh? Less syllables, an’ that.”
You nod and almost look impressed, but he can’t imagine why.
“I’m almost sure Just Jamie is the same number of syllables as Jamie Tartt actually,” you argue, and he almost thinks you’re serious until you break out in that big, bright grin again and he feels like he’s 16, “Sorry. Fucking with you again. You can call me Just Y/N if you like.”
Y/N. Suits you, he thinks. Almost as much as that shade of blue does, all rich and Richmond-esque. He’s sure he’s got a team shirt somewhere that matches that exact colour.
“It’s nice meeting ya, Just Y/N,” he says, then realises how much he’s smiling and needs to do something about it, “And you, Brian. It’s great to be ‘ere, actually, just in general like.”
You nod, kind. Brian does a signal Jamie doesn’t understand, but he walks back a few paces anyway and puts his headphones back on. This time, when you step forward to stop him, he knows what you’ve asked without hearing it and takes his headphones off with a genuine smile at you.
“Oh, this?” he says, making sure he doesn’t smirk when you giggle behind the camera at his acting, “Whole Richmond gang made a playlist for us international lot. Ted, the gaffer, he put a lot of inspirational stuff, you know? Right now it’s Adventure of a Lifetime, the one by Coldplay.”
He’s not sure if he’s meant to say all that or just say the name of the song, and he’s ready to ask if he should start over before Brian signals that he’s cut the camera and you’re gaping at him.
“Okay, I know I put it in your head that you could lie, but you’re actually telling the truth, right?”
Brian scoffs. The prick within Jamie wishes Brian didn’t exist.
“That was worse than just saying Taylor Swift to impress girls,” he mutters, and you make a face that only Jamie sees. You don’t like Brian either and he already likes having something in common with you.
“I know you think that music went downhill after the 1960s, Brian, but no need to take it out on literally everyone who comes through here today. We’re meant to be a fun greeting crew! Why don’t you go get a snickers or something?”
Brian looked disgruntled throughout your speech until you suggested a snickers - clearly the way to the man’s heart. He was turning and speed-walking to the what Jamie assumed was the nearest vending machine in no time.
Now you were pretty and assertive. A deadly combination in Jamie’s eyes, particularly when paired with the fact that he was now pretty sure you were Brian’s boss. You were staring after Brian reproachfully, with a bit of that embarrassment back that Jamie was desperate to rid you of.
“Uh, it was true, by the way,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, “I can go again if you don’t want me to say that much, or-“
“No! No no, that was-“ you shake your head in a disbelief he doesn’t understand, “Brian’s been like this forever. Please don’t take it personally. I’ve been trying not to all morning.”
“It’s okay, really,” he tries to reassure you, “He works for you?”
He can see the smirk that you try to hide. It’s endearing.
“No, not technically. I like that you think so, though,” you smile, a real one again, just as he’d hoped, “I don’t normally work with Brian, he’s usually a match cameraman, not so much PR. I was just a woman down today.”
Jamie leans in, all conspiratorial, because he simply cannot help it.
“You pulled the small straw, huh?”
You giggle a little and he can feel himself puffing up with pride.
“Short straw, you mean?” you laugh, and some of that pride deflates in his chest. He could have sworn it was small, “Either way, yes. Very much so. I’ll be glad when Tiff’s back at it.”
“So when ya said that you were part of the PR team…you actually meant that y’ run it, right?”
“Guilty. What gave me away?”
“Just an air about ya,” Jamie says, because he doesn’t have a fucking clue what to say. You seem to like his answer, ducking your head a little in a way that’s driving Jamie to distraction, so he decides he’s definitely getting in over his head here. He’d already decided he was not going to flirt. It was a terrible idea, “Anyway, I’ve taken up enough of y’ time. Are y’ sure me bit was okay?”
You look startled at the mention of how much time he’s taken up, like you haven’t even thought about it. Soon enough, that ducked head is gone, replaced by the shoulders back, head up attitude that you’d greeted him with, the one that had told him you were in charge. Professional. He couldn’t decide which version he liked more.
“It was perfect, they’ll love it. Such a great story, even better that it’s true,” you confirm, then you add, like you’ve been holding it in, “Richmond ‘til we die, right?”
He actually feels his heart skip, just for a moment: a moment that tells him he’s absolutely fucked. You look like you’ve just told him the biggest secret of the century and he can’t help but believe you. 
“You-“ he’s too breathy, has to cough to correct himself, “You’re a Richmond fan? Or do ya have to say that to all of us?”
“I’m not supposed to say that to any of you,” you grin, “We’re supposed to keep club level allegiances to ourselves. We’re all one England team and all that. But, you know, star striker tells you the most adorable story about your hometown club, it’s pretty hard not to tell them. Think you can keep it to yourself?”
He’d definitely do whatever you asked of him right now. He wants to go and call Keeley right away, but he already knows what she’ll say. Bad idea: wrong place, wrong time, wrong woman. She’d be right. He shakes aside all thoughts of any harmless flirting with the exceedingly kind, exceedingly pretty Richmond fan. 
“Me lips are sealed,” he says, and he mimes it. He even throws the invisible key in your direction and watches you pretend to struggle to catch it, then mime swallowing it yourself. You finish with a rather convincing gulp then nod at him, like you've just entered a blood pact. He nods back, matching the serious energy.
“Enjoy England camp, Just Jamie,” you say, still with an air of fake seriousness the two of you are keeping up. He wants to shake your hand, continue to play pretend, but there’s the sound of a suitcase behind him and he knows you have work to do. He hopes you don’t like anyone's music choice more than his.
“See ya around, Just Y/N.”
You both nod again and it’s getting a bit stupid now but the two of you seem to want to keep it up. He tries ever so hard not to look back at you once he’s inside, and he almost manages it until he hears you talking to the next arrival. He turns to see you in full professional flow…
With two of his old City teammates.
It’s a bucket of cold water over his head. One pretty girl to greet him and he’s managed to use it as a distraction, a way of forgetting all his doubts, worries, fears. Seeing the two City guys brings them back full force, so he glances back at you once more, then turns to delve further into the training complex, hoping to find another face as friendly as yours.
There’s a voice in his head telling him that would be impossible, but he doesn’t want to listen to it right now.
---
if you got this far, i fucking love you <3 oneshot/drabble requests remain open for sexy little jamie tartt and his grumpy bestie roy!!
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nsharks · 2 years
Text
bleeding blue | apocalypse au
part six —other parts
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pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: death. blood. zombies of course. reader menstruates. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: this was longer but i decided to break it up sorry :p
The last glimpse of civilization you had was a chaotic one.
It was the first day of the outbreak.
Freshly infected running around. Bodies scattered in the streets like dead flies. Screaming. Paul grabbing your hand and tugging you towards the treeline. Your nephew shrieking in your sister’s arms. It’s funny how trauma likes to grab hold of the minute details. You can also recall seeing a bus pass by with an ad for some superhero movie. You had planned on seeing it. The bus crashed into a house and the ad was licked by flames.
Paul was always the one to make the trips to pharmacies and markets. He was the one who wielded a gun, not you. You were the one to stay behind, fortify the fence, and watch over the two broken members of your family.
Society's dust— that is what you leave Ghost’s territory for.
You know you need to.
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You wait for your period to end.
Freshly spilled blood is not a scent you want to carry. Greys are drawn to it like flies to rot. Something you learned the hard way once during a hunt with Paul. They were able to catch your scent from a further distance than usual because of it.
To your relief, Ghost lets you look at his map.
Of course, you can’t take it with you.
“Jus’ memorize it,” he grumbles under his breath.
So the evening before you venture out, you study the map of Northern England. Ghost brought out a whole stack of them from the room you’re certain is his. You notice a map of the European continent on top, briefly catching a glimpse of a black circle drawn in the middle somewhere, but he is quick to move it underneath the pile.
You focus on the one you need.
There is a black dot to indicate where their camp is amid the forest. Some 20 kilometers south is the closest city. Or village rather. Ribchester. Maybe that is a safer bet than going by yourself to a big city like Manchester. You may have a bow and knife and some strength, but you don't have a car or guns like he does. Or companions coming with you.
Blue helps you turn your pillowcase into a strapped bag with some scissors. You need something to carry what you find. Ghost isn't willing to let you leave with his backpack. Bitterly, you get it. It’s a useful item.
The next morning, you feel as prepared as you can be. You wake up earlier than usual, before Blue has the chance to poke inside your shed with Grim. You eat a big breakfast of two dried squirrels. You have a third one to take with you.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Blue picks at her breakfast as she sits beside you at the table. Her lips twist around thoughtfully.
You glance between her and Ghost. His stare is unreadable like usual. Dark, stoic, and hiding under lowered brows. You wonder what he thinks— if he would be secretly relieved if you don't make it back alive. Probably. He could get rid of you without Blue pointing the blame at him.
"Medicine is important. I need to find my own.”
We can’t risk sneaking anymore, you would say if he wasn’t right there. But by the way she slides her blue eyes to discreetly meet yours, you think she gets the hint.
"Just be careful, okay?" You nod. "And remember—" she lifts a finger, "—you have to shoot those fucks in the brain."
"I know. I've been practicing my aim a bit."
The smile you offer is only half-there. The truth is, you are risking your life with this. Part of you wonders how deeply she has processed that.
Despite her lips appearing more chewed-through than usual, they give a wary smile in return.
“Yeah, we could hear you hitting the trees. Right, Ghost?"
He hums low, but characteristically, doesn't have much to say about you.
But when you head for the cabin door after eating, his firm hand surprises you, gloved and skeletal. It wraps around your bicep and brings you to a halt before you can step outside. Heat spreads through his glove and the layers of your clothes. You turn around just as a metal object is silently offered to your chest. Ghost holds your stare before you look down at what he is giving you.
It's the revolver. The one they collected from that man.
The gun with only one cartridge.
"Thanks."
You bite your cheek to hide the dry tone, slipping the revolver into your coat pocket. Maybe it will come in handy. At least he now trusts you enough not to immediately point it at him or her.
Blue is the one to follow you out to the gate of their camp.
"I hope you find something good."
"Me, too."
"You know, Ghost and I only went on one trip that I can remember," she says as she unlocks the bolts for you.
"Yeah?"
"To get him more ammo from a military base," she explains with a wave of her hand. "It was pretty close, though. He says that we went on one other trip back to Manchester when things first happened, but he carried me on his back the whole time so I don't remember much except for all the loud sounds.”
This part she adds quietly: "Think I closed my eyes for most of it."
"I would have closed my eyes, too, Blue.”
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The next glimpse of civilization you get is a desolate one.
Again, you are on your own. Though, maybe you’ve been alone this whole time in a way.
It is that weird time between winter and spring when the air is crisp but the sun is bright. You hope to complete the trip in one day, which gives you about nine hours. You walk and walk, leaving Ghost's familiar territory behind until the trees become new to you again. You’ve never gone south before. You stop by a creek to drink some water along the way. By high noon, you exit the forest for the first time in five years.
You can see it. Overgrown shrubs and dry vines that crawl over cracked concrete. A road. A billboard arches over with a peeled ad for shaving cream, the woman’s face looking mangled. Your bow is poised as you follow the highway towards the village, recalling a time when you used to take the bus ride down this very route to visit your sister’s home. You liked watching the trees and rolling hills pass through the window as you tucked your ears under headphones.
It is so strange.
The air is quiet with abandonment.
Briefly, you ache for a world that once existed and the life you once lived. Car rides. Music whenever you wanted. Drunk outings on the weekends when you were supposed to be studying for nursing school. Hope for a family of your own someday.
But you have to ignore all that to stay focused on the present. Now, life is whittled down to basic needs and protecting yourself the best you can.
The village soon appears as stone buildings with unkempt wisteria scaling the sides. Abandoned cars haphazardly parked throughout the streets. You keep your guard up and your nose flared as you approach. There is a faint, awful scent that looms in the air, but it is not strong enough to cause concern. Not yet.
A pharmacy.
You need to find one.
If you want to make it back to their camp by nightfall, then you can only waste about an hour or two here. You could spend the night in a tree and trek the 20 kilometers tomorrow, but sleeping in a branch is even more unpleasant than your shed and it is risky. You were willing to do it when you had no other choice, but what if some unfriendly people find you this time? Perhaps even unfriendlier than the threat of Ghost's knife to your neck.
An hour is killed just searching for the pharmacy.
You roam the empty streets.
Finally, you catch sight of the faded sign and your heart leaps. But the excitement fades away when your nose and eyes detect the group of Greys just outside the building in an empty parking lot. Their pale eyes aren’t pointed at you yet, so you move behind a crumpled car for cover. If you had gotten any closer, they surely would've smelled your human flesh.
You take a deep breath. How many are there?
Carefully, you poke your head out just an inch to survey the threat. Six of those fucks. That is doable given the range.
The last time you ran into Greys, you had no choice but to run because of the bow Ghost stepped on. This time, you can kill them off with the bow carved by his hands.
You are quick with it. You stand and release arrow by arrow. Four of the six are headshots. You aren't perfect. The last two receive arrows through their shoulders, but this type of wound means nothing to a Grey. It is their brains that are infected with the virus, just like Blue said.
These two begin running towards you, now catching a whiff of your scent.
You climb on top of the car. Hitting a running target is far trickier. You go for the faster one first, using two more arrows before hitting the skull, grey chunks of brain splattering onto the concrete. The slower one just barely reaches the car before you finish it off, the closer distance sharpening this final hit.
The pharmacy is reachable now.
As you run over, you gather the used arrows. Precious ammo. You pull them out of their bodies with a twist and a putrid squelch.
When you push through the doors to the pharmacy, you almost choke. The shelves— they are empty. You breeze through every aisle, eyes and hands seeking anything that could be left, but there is nothing. You check the back. You check the shelves behind the counter.
Empty, empty, empty.
“Oh, fuck me,” you croak. Hot tears spill down your cheeks.
You half expected this.
But you’ve come all this way.
You need something.
There must be somewhere else you can look.
The cars maybe. Most people used to keep med kits somewhere inside. There is a slight chance that one could’ve been forgotten. It is worth a try.
You keep moving, not wanting to return with an empty bag. The white sun hangs high. The dry air turns your tear-stained cheeks sticky. You pick up rocks to begin breaking the windows of the abandoned cars, poking your arm inside to undo the locks, and rummaging through the glove compartments.
CDs, magazines, condom wrappers.
Nothing.
“Please, please.”
You make it down the street like this, checking every single one. Distracted, you shatter the glass of a white sedan without noticing the shadow laying in the backseat.
Fingers wrap around your wrist as you reach for the inner lock.
A maggot-filled mouth lurches for the flesh of your hand.
An arrow won't work here. With a cry, you use your free hand to grab the revolver from your pocket and shoot its head. The sound echoes. The single bullet burrows right between its eyes. The Grey writhes for a moment before going limp against the seat.
Panting, you have to pry the bony fingers off your wrist.
Again, you search the glove compartment. In this car where the stench is thick enough to sicken you, a med kit and a Twix bar fall into your hands.
“Fuck— thank you.”
You stash both into your homemade bag.
You could leave now, but you are itching for some antibiotics. The kit will help you clean wounds without Ghost's help, but it won’t save you if you develop an infection.
The next idea you have is to check a house.
By the look of the sky, you can fit in at least two quick searches. You run over to the next street and kick at the front door of the first one you see. Nothing but knocked-over furniture and torn wallpaper. The bathroom cabinet is empty.
The next one you fight inside is decorated with furniture that smells like faded perfume. The first room you check is a bedroom. In the center, a full set of bones lies on the bed, void of any meat after God knows how long its been there. You try not to look at it. On the floor lies a pile of clothes. You could use some more, still dressed in the ones Ghost found you in. You don't even look at them, just grab what you can fit in your bag and move on to the bathroom.
Here, beside a pair of molded dentures, you find two half-full bottles of pills.
Amoxicillin.
Paracetamol.
You cry some more.
It's not much, but it is enough for now.
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Your muscles are fatigued by the time you make it back.
You reek of sweat. It is a long walk. You run into a few more Greys but manage them. You eat the squirrel you brought.
Darkness covers the forest just when you spot the camp's fence in the distance. Relief. You actually did it. Some pride breathes into your tired lungs.
As you get closer, you make out two silhouettes leaving the gate. One is a girl who you tiredly smile at the sight of, and the other is a bulky tank.
You leap over the trench.
But when your boots land on the other side, the end of a rifle pokes your breastbone and prevents you from getting any closer.
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"Ghost."
You can't help but shout at him, eyes widening. He is pointing a gun at you? You were just beginning to think he could tolerate you enough to not threaten murder anymore. The memory of your first encounter resurfaces.
"It's just me! What the hell are you doing?"
Panic finds you once again. Your chest rises and falls under his gun’s touch. You glance at Blue, who tries to get near you, but he sticks out an arm to keep her away.
"Dad," Blue groans, "Do you really have to— ”
The tip of the rifle brushes up over your collarbone and toward your neck. Your nerves awaken under cold metal.
"Let me see." His voice is firm.
Oh. Bites. He wants to see if you have any bites.
"Okay, okay." You nod breathlessly.
Swallowing, you gather your braided hair in your hands as he clicks on a flashlight. You have not been offered string to tie them with so most of the hair has fallen out as always. You roll your neck to one side, and then to the other to show him the unmarked skin. But he is not satisfied yet.
He moves the rifle down to the hem of your shirt and uses it to lift up the fabric just beneath your breasts, revealing the skin of your stomach and ribs. You should feel exposed, standing here with your bare midriff under the light, but the two of them have already seen this much of you. You are more concerned about the fact that he could kill you if he actually suspects you could’ve been bitten.
The cold air invites a shiver. Your teeth clench as you stare at him. In the darkness, his eyes almost lean red.
He lowers your shirt.
"Roll 'em up for me,” he demands, now giving a nod to your trousers.
You bend over to roll up the pantlegs, all the way up to your knees so he can’t complain about it. All that is revealed are your unshaven legs and sweat-laced socks. You are sure they can smell them from where they stand.
"She doesn't have any stupid bites, Ghost, alright?"
Blue tugs at his arm with a huff. Finally, the rifle lowers. You straighten back up and exhale the short breath you were holding.
There is a silent moment where the three of you just stand there. An owl hoots. Ghost rubs at his masked jaw and looks you over some more, eyes flicking to the filled bag over your shoulder with a raised brow.
And then, something unexpected.
A small body whirls into yours and you almost stumble back in a step. Blue wraps her arms around your waist and excitedly breathes out, "I knew you'd make it back. Ghost said you wouldn't. I told him you would."
What?
It is a short-lived hug.
But still, the first one you have had in a long time.
After this tiring day, your eyes close with some more moisture. It is a strange feeling, her young embrace. Her palms spread flat against your back and she presses her forehead to your shoulder because she is tall enough to reach it. You are just about to hug her in return, move your arms around her shoulders out of instinct, but she is soon tugged away by a skeletal hand. Her blue eyes drift down to her boots. She looks a mix of irritated and embarrassed.
In a daze, you end up back in the warmth of the cabin.
Blue begs you to show her what you found. You dump the contents of your pillowcase onto the table. Her father’s shadow lurks behind you somewhere, always watching and taking up space, but for now, you ignore him.
You cannot recall a time when you were in this kind of mood. It is enough to surface the waters of your grief. Because now, your survival does not have to rely so much on Ghost's mercy or the risk of Blue’s sneaky hands. Food, a med kit, one type of antibiotic. It should all be enough to keep you alive - to take care of yourself - for at least however long you end up staying here.
"Shit balls." Blue rummages through the goods. "You did pretty good."
"Right? I can't believe it," you whisper numbly. You wipe your eyes.
She holds up the clothes first, starting with a large, floral blouse that looks like something an old lady would wear. Her head tips back with a giggle.
"This is way too big for you."
"I'll make it work," you say, shrugging, but almost manage a quiet laugh, too. You don't really give a fuck what the clothes look like. At least you can change finally into something else - something that didn’t belong to your dead companions.
Where you care about the medicine, Blue is far more intrigued by the candy bar she discovers. She holds it up, and inspects the wrapper with curiously wide eyes, shooting a glance at her dad.
"T-w-i-x," she sounds out with pinched brows. She looks back at you. "What's this?"
"It's like... chocolate," you tell her.
"Oh— no way. Could I try some?"
You don't really care about the Twix bar. You almost forgot about it since the moment you found it in the car. But before you can tell her she can just have it as a late birthday gift - because she has done so much for you - Ghost moves to take it from her hands.
He puts it back down on the table.
“What’s hers is hers, kid. That’s how it works here.“
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itsgiovanna · 7 months
Text
it's us against the world
pairing: fem!reader x rúben dias
type: instagram a.u
summary: you're a renowned supermodel and has to deal with rumors and haters because rúben dias is your boyfriend. despite that, he'll never stop telling how much he cares about you.
notes: hey! this is my first instagram a.u with rúben, i hope you love it 🤍
warnings: fluff, cursing.
face claim: christina nadin
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liked by sarasampaio, rubendias, bellahadid, sydneysweeney, kyliejenner and 46,789 others
yourinstagram 💋 @pradabeauty #pradabeautypartner
view all 18,620 comments
user8 MOTHER
gigihadid wow 😍😍😍
britishvogue 💌
user2 that's it i'm speechless
fan5 I LOVE YOUUU
caradelevingne 🤍🤍🤍
sydneysweeney missing youuu
↳ yourusername me too 🥺
user2 you're back to ig 😭
fan7 rúben liked omfg
fan1 unbothered and gorgeous as always 😍
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liked by eerlinghaaland, joafelix, bernardosilva, judebellingham, johnstones, yourinstagram and 104.567 others
rubendias addressed.
view all 84.875 comments
fan6 OMG THE HAIR
user4 i'm not even a manchester city fan but damn........
eerlinghaaland finally 👏🏻🙏🏻
fan2 this should be illegal 🥵😭
fan9 not that model liking the pic 🙃
↳ user2 what about it? lmao
↳ fan9 he cheated on her but she's still with him
↳ fan1 stfu you don't know shit
yourinstagram 😮‍💨😙
liked by the author
fan3 GIRL HAVE SOME SELF LOVE
fan5 what the hell is going on
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↳ yourinstagram added to their stories
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liked by milomanheim, sophieturner, bellahadid, rubendias, haileybieber, sofiarichiegrainge and 84,876 others
yourinstagram greece, you have my heart 🇬🇷💙
view all 64 comments
sofiarichiegrainge are you even real? 😍
bellahadid a real life mermaid
haileybieber serving 🔥
inesdegenertomaz não há mais linda ❤️
↳ yourinstagram amei te ver 😭
rubendias 😮‍💨💙
↳ yourinstagram 🫶🏼🤭
comments on this post have been limited
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↳ yourinstagram added to their stories
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liked by rubendias, madisonbeer, bernardosilva, johnstones, eerlinghaaland, kendalljenner, zendaya and 107,879 others
yourinstagram birthday dump 🤍
view all 65,421 comments
rubendias ❤️❤️❤️
↳ yourinstagram te amo 🥺🩷
↳ rubendias hope you liked our date 😉🤪
fan6 OMG I CAN'T BREATH
fan7 does rúben’s comments has a double meaning? 😳
↳ user2 HAHAHAHA I’M LIVING FOR IT
mancity 🩵🩵
fan1 it's official 😭😭
johnstones 🥰
user7 rúben can you fight????
fan2 WHATTTT
fan3 if this is a dream pls don't wake me up 🥺
user1 it's so cute how she's still with him after the cheating scandal 🤍
↳ fan3 wtf is wrong with you? get a life
↳ fan7 you're just boring 🥱
liked by the author
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liked by mancity, bernardosilva, johnstones, eerlinghaaland, portugal, masonmount, landonorris, yourinstagram and 467,782 others
rubendias parabéns, meu amor. you're the best thing that ever happened to me and no one can never take this away from us. i love you. ❤️
view all 98,657 comments
yourinstagram it's you and me against the world, forever. i love you, bebê! 🤍🥹
mancity love is in the air! 🩵
portugal muitos parabéns ✨
eerlinghaaland 😄❤️
johnstones finally 👏🏻
user2 she’s so beautiful 😫
bellahadid the most beautiful couple there is 🤎
bernardosilva felicidades 🥳
inesdegenertomaz 😍😍
fan2 HAVE BABIES ALREADY
fan9 i knew it!!!!!!
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