Woso one shots

𝗞𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗲 𝗠𝗰𝗖𝗮𝗯𝗲 ➻ 𝗙𝗮𝗰𝗲-𝗢𝗳𝗳 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗙𝗶𝗲𝗹𝗱

The stadium was buzzing. The chants of the supporters echoed, and the air was heavy with tension. We were approaching the 75th minute of this hard-fought match between Manchester City and Arsenal. The score was stuck at 1-1, and every action was becoming crucial. My legs were heavy, but my mind remained sharp. As a midfielder for Manchester City, I was at the heart of the action, ready to launch a new attack.

That's when I saw her. Katie McCabe. Impossible to miss, she was everywhere on the pitch, omnipresent, pressing and disrupting the play. Since kick-off, we had been sizing each other up, both waiting for the moment to face off directly.

I recovered the ball and prepared to accelerate. But before I could make another move, I felt a violent impact on my ankle. It was as if a train had hit me. I collapsed to the ground, winded. For a split second, the pain froze me, but it was the anger that rose within me, a burning anger.

I looked up, and unsurprisingly, it was her. Katie stood there, arms crossed, a smug smile stretching across her lips. The pain was sharp, radiating from my ankle with every movement, but I refused to stay down. Clenching my teeth, I slowly got up despite the pain, my gaze dark. "What was that tackle, McCabe? Do you think you're in a boxing ring or something?" My voice was icy.

Katie didn't back down. She locked eyes with me, and her smile widened, full of provocation. "If you can't take it, maybe you should go back to playing in primary school, Y/L/N." She let out a mocking laugh. "Oh, sorry, I forgot. Even there, they'd have kicked you out by now."

My blood boiled. A furious heat surged through every fibre of my body. Without even thinking, I shoved her with all my strength. "Say that again, and I'll show you what a real tackle is."

Katie staggered slightly from the impact but immediately retaliated, pushing me back with equal force. "Go on, try it. You might have the legs, but you don't have the guts to take me on."

Our faces were now just inches apart. I could feel her rapid breath, see the fire in her eyes, and I knew she could see the same in mine. Around us, the crowd's cheers grew louder, some urging us on, others hurling insults. But at that moment, the world had shrunk, and it was just her and me.

Our teammates and the referee rushed in to separate us, but it was too late. The red cards flashed, bright and final. The boos from the stands were deafening, but nothing could quell the rage that roared within me.

As we left the pitch, I felt a mix of frustration and adrenaline coursing through me. But just before Katie turned to walk away, she threw me one last look, still with that same provocative smile, as if she'd won something. "Don't worry, Y/N, next time I'll give you some private lessons. For free."

I clenched my fists, refusing to let her words get to me. "Keep your advice, McCabe. Next time, I'll be the one teaching you something. And trust me, it's going to hurt."

She gave me one last look, a mix of challenge and respect, before walking off. As I headed towards the locker room, I was already planning our next confrontation. Because this wasn't over. Not by a long shot.