Supa Strikas One-shots ⚡❤️

Dreamin' on

Don't take this too seriously it's just some brain rot I wrote at 3 am 🌝🌝

Word count: 541 words

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Shakes stood alone on the pitch, the roar of the crowd around him fading into a distant hum. In front of him stood Skarra, his infamous rival, looking oddly... relaxed. Shakes had no idea what to make of it. They were supposed to be enemies, the tension between them a constant thing in the air. But now, Skarra’s cocky smirk had softened into something almost... affectionate.

"You're always trying so hard, Shakes," Skarra said, taking a step forward. His voice, usually dripping with arrogance, was now soft, almost teasing.

Shakes blinked, his heart racing for reasons he couldn't quite comprehend. "What are you talking about, Skarra? What's your game this time?"

Skarra chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "No games this time. Just you and me."

Shakes’ brow furrowed, but before he could respond, Skarra stepped closer, almost too close. His eyes were intense, not with their usual competitive fire but with something else entirely.

Suddenly, Skarra reached out and cupped Shakes' cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle. Shakes felt his breath catch in his throat, unable to move, paralyzed by the sheer absurdity of the moment.

"Skarra, what—"

"You always think I'm out to get you," Skarra interrupted, his tone playful now, like they were sharing a secret only the two of them knew. "But maybe... you're just scared of what you don't understand."

Before Shakes could even process the words, Skarra leaned in, his lips hovering dangerously close to Shakes’. The world seemed to tilt, and for the first time in his life, Shakes was truly caught off guard. His heart pounded loudly in his chest, and everything about this moment felt impossibly surreal.

Then, just as quickly as it started, it ended.

Shakes jolted awake, his body tangled in his sheets, his heart hammering against his ribs. He sat up quickly, his breathing shallow, as if he had just sprinted across the entire pitch.

"What the—" he muttered to himself, running a hand through his messy hair. His mind was spinning, replaying the strange dream over and over.

Skarra. He had dreamed about Skarra. And not just any dream—it was... that kind of dream.

His face flushed deeply, his cheeks burning hot as the full realization of what had just happened hit him. "No way... no way that just happened!" He buried his face in his hands, utterly flustered.

Of all people, why did it have to be Skarra?

There was no way he could tell anyone about this. Not Spenza, not his teammates—definitely not his teammates. They'd never let him live it down. And Skarra? Shakes felt his stomach flip just thinking about facing him on the pitch after... that dream.

Shakes groaned, throwing himself back down on his pillow, staring up at the ceiling. "Get it together, Shakes. It was just a dream... just a weird, messed-up dream." He rolled over, squeezing his eyes shut, desperately willing his brain to focus on anything but the memory of Skarra’s hand on his cheek, the sound of his voice, the way—

"Nope! Nope, nope, nope!" Shakes shouted, sitting up again.

This was going to be a long day.

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I hope you liked this oneshot guys 😅😅

-Willow