Reader plays for the Man City girls academy. She struggles a bit but gets Ruben to mentor her. The the two don't hit off despite having many things in common. It all gets worse when Reader eventually catches feelings for Ruben. 

Enjoy!

Your first training session with Ruben was not what you had signed up for. One week passed without hearing a word from him. You hadn't exchanged numbers or anything, but you expected there to be more effort from his side to seek you up. You obviously couldn't look for him in the main building, but Ruben had all access to find you. Yet, you heard nothing from him, letting a whole week pass.

"Pass the ball Y/N!" Coach shouted. "Pass Sandra the ball!"

But why? You thought. It was another frustrating training session. You ran across the field, the football glued to your feet. Your teammate, Sandra, ran along side you but on the other end. It didn't make any sense. Why pass the ball when you could dribble?

"No, Y/N, don't!"

You managed to get past a front line of players, taking the shot and scoring the goal yourself. Still, coach wasn't happy with your performance.

"If you don't like the way I run my play then pack your bags and go home!" He said.

You stayed back after training, collecting all the balls that had been used during the session. The task at hand took you twice as long as it should have. Some of the balls you were meant to collect you shot aimlessly in frustration. You had a need to get all your anger out and this seemed to be a therapeutic way to do it.

"Merda!" (Shit!)

Your cries echoed across the empty football field. A sense of hopelessness washing over you. You were on the brink from crying when you spotted him.

"Ruben!"

You shouted his name seeing him leave the main building. He looked done for the day, dressed in regular attire, wearing designer sneakers.

"Hey Ruben, wait up!"

He was walking towards the parking lot, a trail of other first team players doing the same. Some of them turned to acknowledge the girl running towards them in a frenzy. They laughed, thinking you were some silly academy kid.

"Ruben please!" You shouted, desperate to catch up with him.

"Hey Dias, I think you have a new fan."

Ruben, who was walking ahead of his teammates, looked up from his phone.

"Finally." You sighed.

He acknowledge you, raising a brow. However his attention was quickly drawn back to his phone, ignoring you this way.

"No!"

He continued towards his car.

"Seu burro gordo!" (You fat donkey!)

There was a ball near your feet. You stepped back, then rushed towards it. The ball launched across the field towards the surrounding fence. It hit the fence with such force, rattling it. Some players flinched, the force of your shot suprising them. However, Ruben hand't noticed. You found another ball, stepped back and took the shot.

"Hey, watch it!"

The ball flew pass the fence, over it, landing on the concrete before bouncing off another players car. The ball almost hit Ruben and this time you had his full attention.

"You promised!" You said, breathless.

His expression was more or less unfazed. Your heart sank seeing him turn his back on you, continuing towards his car.

You gave up.

The ball that flew over the fence would be one less to collect. You returned to the center of the field to the bag containing the balls you had retrieved earlier. You tied a loose knot and threw the bag over your shoulder, just then you got hit in the back of your head, the ball bouncing off somwhere. You turned around. Ruben stood with his arms folded, mocking you with a sly grin. He had exchanged his sneakers for cleats, looking ready to play.

"You said you would help me." You threw the bag off your shoulder, the balls spilling out towards Ruben. "I'm very serious about football Ruben and you promised to help me."

A swift movment from Ruben. You had to jump to the side, avoiding the ball he kicked your way.

"Don't run off now. Let me see you play for it."

You frowned at his words.

Ruben moved again and like last time you jumped out of the way, avoiding his chip aiming for your head. He chuckled. "You said you wanted to play football and now you're running. Why are you running Y/N?"

"I'm not." You squealed.

Ruben got behind another ball but this time you anticipated the shot. You caught it with a knee before it rolled onto the ground.

"Well..."

You let the ball rest under your feet. "Well what?"

Ruben looked to you expectantly. "Go on then, try getting past me."

The goal was right behind him. He wanted you to dribble past him and score. Steam rose above your head as every breath you took turned to smoke in the cold night. You let go of all thought, dribbling required no thought just instict. You ran forward, the ball glued to your feet. Ruben was rough with you, pushing you hard, making you work for it. Frustration. You couldn't find a way to get past him. Not to mention the fact that he was a stack taller than you.

"Come on, Y/N, you can do better than that!" Ruben snatched the ball from your feet, teasing you with it, playing cat and mouse. "Don't be so lazy, put some effort into it!"

You gritted your teeth and tried again, one last attempt to lunge for the ball and dribble past him. However, one second you were on your feet, the next you were falling flat on your face, eating grass.

"Who's the donkey now."

Ruben walked off the field, not bothering to look back. You rose to your knees, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

"So you speak Portuguese?" How else did he know that you called him a donkey?

Ruben might have left the field but his car never left the parking lot. He waited for you to collect the rest of the balls, offering to give you a ride home. "Well I'm from Portugal, so..."

"Right."

You sat back in the passenger seat, regretting not having done the research on Ruben. You had done so on almost every first team player in Manchester City. You had to know which ones were ranked the best.

"I'm from Brazil." You said, to which Ruben chuckled. "I know."

"Yeah? What gave me away?"

"Probably your need to dribble and your unhealthy obsession with Neymar."

You gasped. "I don't have an unhealthy..."

"A pro tip." Ruben said, cutting you short. "Don't put other players on pedestals. They might become your biggest rivals some day."

"I doubt my obsession...I mean fascination, with Neymar will be a problem. Although it would be a dream come true to play football with him."

The corner of Ruben's lip twitched.

Silence fell in car. You watched the streetlights go by. It was nice, speaking portuguese again. It had been a while since you didn't have to calculate every sentence that you spoke, although Ester had gotten really good to hear through your accent.

"Is that why coach wanted us to meet?" You turned back to Ruben as the thought hit you. "...because you speak portuguese?"

He kept his eyes on the road, brifley shifting his head to look at you. "He said you were having some trouble settling in."

"I bet he did." You snorted. "Did he also tell you that I have dry skin and frostbites all over my hands. If it wasn't for the weather in this country I'm sure I'd be doing fine."

"It doesn't get better than this." He smiled. "You should adapt to your circumstances and dress accordingly."

"Easy for you to say." You muttered.

Ruben looked to calculate his response, but hesitated. Again, silence fell in the car.

"I take it you miss home?" He said, after sometime. The streetlights disappeared as you got off the highway.

"I miss my family, yes. And the sun."

Ruben nodded understandingly, although you doubted that he knew how you felt. Portugal was only a two hour flight away. Ruben most likely went by private jet, somthing you could never afford.

You gave Ruben the direction to your apartment complex. He parked just below Ester bedroom window. The light from her computer told you that she was probably huddled up in bed, watching a cheesy comedy.

"Thanks for the ride." You said, hopping out of Ruben's car.

"Hey?"

You looked back. Ruben reached towards the backseat, searching for something in his gym bag. "It gets better in time." He said, handing you a pair of Man City gloves and a Man City beanie.

"Um...thanks."

"Te vejo mais tarde, Y/N." (I'll see you later, Y/N)

You stood by, watching his car disapper down the street. The night fell silent. You looked to the gloves in your hand, Ruben's gloves.

"Obrigado." You whispered. (Thank you.)