Alessia Russo Oneshot

Breaking the Chihuahua- McCabe!Reader

The training ground buzzed with energy as Arsenal prepared for the new season. A few eyes nervously flicked in your direction as you walked past, tattoos visible under the sleeves of your training top, your brow furrowed with concentration. You were known on and off the pitch as an intimidating presence—built like a brick wall, with eyebrow slits that only added to your fierce look. Everyone knew better than to cross you, including your older sister, Katie McCabe.

Katie, despite being just as intense as you on the field, was completely different off it. She was a golden retriever in human form—always smiling, always joking around. You, on the other hand, had a reputation as a bit of a chihuahua. You were fiery, quick to snap, and had a history of getting into fights when you were younger. The team was wary of you, knowing that your patience was thin and your tolerance for nonsense even thinner. It didn't help that you were also known for your wild, chaotic love life—another thing that made your teammates keep their distance.

Today was different, though. There was a new girl joining the squad, and as you sat lacing up your boots, you heard whispers from the others.

"Have you seen that Alessia has transferred here to Arsenal?" Leah Williamson's voice carried across the locker room.

Beth Mead responded, "Yeah, I'm very happy that she has chosen the right side of North London. But someone should probably warn her about... well, you know." Her eyes darted to you, then back to Leah.

"Yeah, definitely. Last thing we need is another incident," Leah agreed.

You rolled your eyes but didn't say anything. You were used to it by now—the hushed warnings, the way people walked on eggshells around you. It didn't bother you much; in fact, you preferred it that way. Less drama, more focus.

A few days later, you were on the pitch, the hot sun beating down as you practised drills. Alessia had finally arrived, and you observed her from a distance. Tall, blonde, and talented—she had an air of quiet confidence that intrigued you, though you'd never admit it.

Katie jogged over to you, a grin plastered on her face. "So, what do you think of the new girl?" she asked, teasingly nudging you with her elbow.

"Don't care," you grumbled, shrugging her off. "As long as she does her job."

Katie laughed. "Always so serious. You should try smiling more, it won't kill you."

You shot her a glare. "Katie, piss off."

Your sister only laughed harder, used to your harsh tone. "Alright, alright. Just saying, you might want to try being nice for once. Who knows, you might actually make a friend."

"Don't need friends," you muttered, turning your attention back to the drills.

As the days passed, Alessia settled into the team, quickly making friends with everyone—everyone except you, that is. She seemed to sense the barrier you'd put up, but instead of avoiding you like the others, she kept trying to break through it. She'd smile at you in the locker room, strike up conversations, and even pass you the ball during practice with a wink.

At first, you ignored her. You weren't interested in making friends, least of all with some bright-eyed newbie who had no idea what she was getting herself into. But Alessia was persistent.

One afternoon after practice, she approached you in the locker room. "Hey, Y/N, do you want to grab a coffee sometime? I'd love to get to know you better."

Your eyes narrowed. "Why?"

She blinked, taken aback by your bluntness. "I mean, we're teammates. It'd be nice to—"

"Look," you interrupted, your tone sharp. "I'm not interested in being your friend, alright? Just focus on your game and stay out of my way."

Alessia's smile faltered for a split second before she nodded. "Okay. Sorry, I didn't mean to overstep."