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- Estás pronta, amor? (You’re ready, love?) - Rúben asked as he fixed Matilde’s tiny jersey.  - Sim, papá! (Yes, daddy!) - the five year old squealed as the excitement rushing through her body made her jump nonstop. Rúben tries to calm his princess down, caressing her hair, combing her ponytails with his fingers carefully, catching her attention.  - Don’t ruin my hair daddy, I want to look pretty on television - she argues, trying her best to get her daddy’s fingers far from her hairstyle. Rúben smiled at her words and stopped touching her daughter’s hair.  - You always look beautiful, amor. You are the most beautiful princess in the entire world - he reassured her without a doubt, caressing her cheek with his thumb gently. 

Matilde is thrilled because, for the first time, she will be able to walk out with Rúben to the pitch, something she had been talking about for a while. 

“You gave your hand to that kid and you don’t let me go with you to the pitch!” - she would complain at home after Rúben arrived from every game - making him promise that he would, eventually, walk out with her next to him in an important game. 

And for Rúben, there couldn’t be a better opportunity to bring his babies with him to the pitch than in a Portugal’s game. Rúben wears his jersey very proudly, loving the way he can represent his country and bring joy to his people, when everyone comes together to support the national team, no matter how many clubs and differences there would be. 

Dinis is almost asleep in his daddy’s chest, the two year old boy is way too young to understand what’s going on, but Rúben is sure that he will never forget this night. Seeing the two lights of his life in his national team’s kit, with their names and Rúben’s number on their backs, makes his heart flutter. He loves his family, he’s very proud of what he and you had conquered: from a silly couple, to a married pair, holding hands with two adorable children - he couldn’t be more in love. 

He kisses Dinis’ head, way more times that he can acknowledge by now, he’s obsessed by having his kids on his chest, kissing them nonstop all the time, protecting them and showering the two mini versions of Rúben and Y/N in love. Matilde stopped her jumping by now, growing impatient and holding herself to her daddy’s leg, giving Rúben an excuse to kneel down and hug his daughter as well, getting all the strength and motivation from the presence of his children. He’s now regretting the fact that he hasn’t brought them with him before, realising that they are everything that he needs to get ready for his games. 

The sight is adorable: Rúben is kneeled down on the corridor, waiting to enter the pitch. All players are holding his children or nephews, laughing and playing. But Rúben is silent, nestling his babies on his lap, smelling their hairs, kissing them, caressing their backs and holding them tightly. Dinis and Matilde feel the same aura as Rúben, holding their dad in a comfortable silence like they are used to at home: giving love to each other silently, enjoying the cuddles, kissing and smiling, feeling grateful for their family. 

They stand up when the referee says it’s time to walk to the pitch. Matilde fixes her shirt once again, smiling at her daddy when Rúben holds her hand gently yet reassuringly. 

Once they step on the pitch, Rúben notices Matilde’s reaction: her brown eyes are shining bright, surprised at how many people are looking down at her, feeling little right now. She tightens the grip around her dad’s hand, and Rúben smiles at her, letting her know that everything is okay, hoping that she can enjoy this moment. 

Even Dinis is surprised, fully awake now, attentively looking everywhere, noticing all details and trying to understand what’s happening. The baby’s small arms are wrapped around Rúben’s neck, and he touches his forehead with his son gently, smiling, full of pride to show his family to everyone. The players line up, ready to sing the national anthems - Rúben is very proud to say that his children speak portuguese fluently, trying his hardest to teach them since a very young age: Matilde has no trouble with the language and Dinis is already learning a few words and he understands his father when he speaks to him in portuguese. 

However, Rúben definitely wasn’t ready for what was coming: when the symphony of Portugal’s anthem starts playing, he and his teammates sing the melody, but when he looks down, he sees his daughter, standing straight, proudly singing the Portuguese anthem, holding the symbol of her shirt. The sight almost brought some tears to his eyes, insanely proud of the kids you and him are raising, but he had to stay calm and not let his feelings get in the way just before the game started. And when the song ends and he has to say goodbye to his babies, before they get back to your lap, it’s the strong hug that they give him that tells him everything he needs to know: he can do this, he has the biggest motivation by his side, his family. 

- Boa sorte, papá (good luck, daddy) - Matilde cheers before giving him a kiss on the cheek and running to her mommy. It’s game time. 

Rúben doesn’t even know how you do it. How, every time you step in a room, you make him feel like the music has suddenly faded away, the lights have dimmed, and you’re the only thing his eyes can keep their focus on. 

It’s a hot summer night, and you and some friends decided to enjoy your night out at a party. Rúben and the rest of his group were already there when you and the girls arrived. 

He’s not a stranger to you - you have known each other for a while now, thanks to one of your closest friends dating a guy from Rúben’s group. He’s okay, you think. Every girl you know finds him really attractive, and you were no exception. But he was never much of a yapper whenever he got near you, so you never really craved bigger interactions with him either. 

But that’s the thing. Rúben is an extrovert when he’s around his friends, he enjoys a nice conversation, he likes to have fun with everyone, he just seems to… quiet down when he’s around you. 

You just don’t have any clue of the way his chest tightens every time he sees you, how he wishes for your perfume to linger in the air for a bit longer when you pass by him, how he fights himself not to stare at you for too long, how he asks himself countless times how the hell were you able to do him like that. You’re clueless to all of that. 

The dress you’re wearing hugs your curves perfectly, in a way that makes Rúben swallow hard at the sight, considering your silhouette almost illegal to even exist so close to him, yet so far from his touch… 

While the man fights his own life not to crawl his way to you, you’re mindlessly enjoying yourself, dancing the night away as your hips sway to the music effortlessly, almost as if the heartbeat of the party lives in your veins. 

You’re giving him a show, even if you don’t know. Rúben’s eyes are glued on you, every passing second making him grow more and more religious, thanking the heavens for your existence, wondering what it took for you to catch a spell this strong on him, enticing him completely, imprisoning the man under your shadow, devoted to the ground you step on. And still, not brave enough to talk to you, to walk to you, to try his shot.  

How can a man like Rúben feel so powerless next to you? How can he feel so small, such an idiot next to the woman you are, feeling like he’s not even close to everything you deserve - and still, fully convinced that he would give you the world in a blink if you ever gave him a chance to feel his skin touching yours.

To tell the truth, you have no idea how it all began. That moment when everyone starts feeling like the party is getting close to an end, but everyone is way too tipsy to think about leaving. When everyone is laughing way too hard, and everybody refuses to stop dancing, even if their feet hurt already. 

As the alcohol kicked in through the hours, Rúben started slowly moving your way, subtly approaching you, bit by bit as he grew braver. The more he’s close to you, the more he can feel your scent, your presence taking over him as you smile at the vision of the footballer so close to you, to your surprise, welcoming him to your space. 

He could die right then and there, smiling wide back at you. As an act of hope, the man holds his hand for you to take in the middle of the song, holding your fingers kindly as you spin in front of him in a silly way. 

This moment felt like one of Rúben’s countless dreams that he had with you over the months. Feeling your skin so softly touching his through your hands, seeing you smile at him, dancing in front of him, as your body too grows closer to his, inviting him to dance as if you were a pair. 

When you realise, your back is turned to him, your hips glued to the man’s as you grind on him softly to the rhythm of the music playing. His hands carefully find your waist, wanting to enjoy your closeness, but not wanting to ruin everything by being too “touchy”. On the other side, you want nothing more than to feel his hands on you. 

It’s like both of you can feel the courage running in between your bodies, as your fingers search for Rúben’s, grabbing his hands only to make them travel through your curves slowly, sensually, yearning. Allowing him to discover your skin, the fabric of your dress and every detail of it. 

Your presence drives him insane, the way your hips move fast against his, only to slow down for a moment, your arm snaking to the back of his neck, your fingers touching his beard briefly, inviting him so his face gets closer to yours. 

The man loses his composure, not even feeling anxious or afraid anymore as his lips shamelessly leave a kiss on the skin of your neck, travelling to your shoulder, adorning the space where he rests his head for a moment, pulling you even closer to him, as if that was even possible. 

For a moment, you feel the same way that Rúben always feels when you’re around. It’s like everyone is moving in slow motion, almost as if the music stopped, hearing your heartbeat loud and clear in your ears the more he touches you, almost as if you two are the only ones in the room.

Rúben lost himself long ago, approximately at the same time your hand touched his. Nothing about this moment feels real to him, the only thing bringing him back to life being your hips connected to his. The man can’t even believe his eyes when he sees you holding your hand for him to take, guiding you to the exit.

Giggling like teens as you slowly run away from the party, the music starts fading away, sounding more distant from your frames as you reach the world outside. The sky is not dark anymore, growing a lighter shade of blue as it prepares to welcome the day. 

It amazes Rúben how you look so ethereal with every color and shade that dares to touch you, making it seem even more difficult for him to control himself. And right now, he doesn’t want that anymore. He doesn’t want to grow quiet, to slow down, he doesn’t want to be the usual Rúben that gets scared to even look your way. He wants to stay brave, to touch you, to show you how he truly feels about you. 

Letting an unbelievable sigh escape his shape now, the man finally pulls you more to him by your hips, gently welcoming you with the way his body seems to relax when he senses you close. 

Your smile mirrors his now, even if you’re both growing a bit shy, and the crimson on your cheeks is slowly covered by the man’s features when he finally attaches your lips together. The way your mouths move in sync as if you were designed for one another, shakes your inner world, almost feeling unable to react, to understand this is actually happening. 

Rúben feels like he just won the lottery, feeding himself off of how tasty your lips are - sweeter than he could have ever imagined in his dreams. Opening the door to his car, you both occupy the back seats, finally letting go of any small bit of shame that could still linger inside of you. Now it’s just you two, and the shy shades of orange that start colouring the sky as the sun gets ready to rise. 

You immediately attach your lips to his again, not wanting to waste a minute when you’re not connected to Rúben. You can’t help but grin against his lips once you feel his hands slowly roaming your shape, almost wishing your dress was gone already so he could have easy access to your skin, feeling the goosebumps that adorn your body as his digits continue to travel through you. 

Small gasps, grins, giggles, heavy breaths are everything that can be heard inside the car. There’s no need to ask questions, to know the “why’s”, “when’s”, “how’s”, that pop up in your minds - allowing your bodies to speak for yourselves and show how hungry you have been for the other, for so long now, even if none of you wants to admit it. 

Both of you feel like you’re dreaming, the effects of the alcohol disappearing by now, growing high by the sensations flowing between your bodies the more you grind, kiss, touch, your tongues fighting on the back of that car. 

And neither of you are in a rush - desperately wanting to take your time with each other, but it’s clear as the day that you won’t be done with one another anytime soon. As you unzip your dress while straddling the player, biting your lip sensually for him, your eyes burning into his, Rúben has all the confirmation he needs: You did, in fact, cast a spell on him.