She’s mine
Training had been going on for barely an hour, and Ingrid was already at her limit.
The new girl—some flashy young winger fresh from the academy -was glued to Mapi’s side, smiling too much, laughing too hard, and Ingrid had had enough.
It wasn’t that Ingrid was the jealous type. She trusted Mapi with everything she had. But this? This girl blatantly ignoring every single signal, every single touch Ingrid had placed on Mapi -whether it was a hand on her lower back, an arm around her waist, or even the pointed glare she’d shot her way- was driving her insane.
Worse, Mapi, oblivious as ever, didn’t even seem to realize it.
Every time the girl leaned in too close, Ingrid clenched her jaw. Every time she touched Mapi’s arm unnecessarily, Ingrid balled her fists. And every time she giggled at something Mapi said, Ingrid had to force herself to breathe.
Mapi had brushed it off at first, waving Ingrid’s concerns away with a casual, “She’s just friendly, Princesa.”
Friendly, Ingrid’s ass.
It all came to a head when they moved into a scrimmage.
Ingrid and Mapi were on opposite teams, which was fine. They’d played against each other a million times. It was fun, even -except the new girl was on Mapi’s team, which meant she had yet another excuse to stay close to her.
Ingrid tried to ignore it, tried to focus on the game, but the frustration was simmering beneath the surface, waiting for an excuse to boil over.
Then Mapi went down.
It wasn’t anything serious -a hard tackle, but nothing she couldn’t handle. Ingrid was already moving toward her, instincts kicking in, when the new girl barreled past her, shoving her aside like she was nothing.
Ingrid saw red.
She didn’t even register what she was doing until she was yanking the girl back by the arm, her voice low and sharp. “Move.”
The girl blinked, startled. “What?”
“I said move.” Ingrid’s grip tightened, her green eyes burning with something dangerous.
The rest of the team had gone silent, all eyes on them.
The girl scoffed, shaking Ingrid off. “I was just checking on her.”
“You don’t need to,” Ingrid said flatly, stepping in front of her. “I’ve got it.”
Mapi, still on the ground but clearly fine, looked between them, her brows raised. “Princesa?”
Ingrid ignored her, gaze locked on the girl in front of her.
The girl smirked, something smug and challenging in her expression. “I don’t think Mapi minds.”
That was it. That was the moment Ingrid snapped. She wasn’t loud, wasn’t aggressive, but the way she squared her shoulders, the way her voice dropped into something cold and controlled, made it clear she was done playing nice.
“Listen to me,” Ingrid said, stepping closer, towering over the girl now. “I don’t care if you’re new. I don’t care if you think you’re being cute. What you’re doing? It’s disrespectful.”
The girl opened her mouth, but Ingrid cut her off.
“She’s mine,” Ingrid said, voice firm, steady. “You don’t get to touch her like that. You don’t get to ignore me when I make it clear you’re crossing a line.”
Silence.
The girl shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Mapi as if waiting for her to argue. But Mapi didn’t. She just looked up at Ingrid, something unreadable in her expression.
“Entendido?” Ingrid pressed.
The girl muttered something under her breath before backing off.
Only then did Ingrid finally kneel beside Mapi, hands gentle as she ran them over her legs, checking for any real injury. “Are you okay?”
Mapi was staring at her, wide-eyed, a slow grin spreading across her lips.
“Princesa,” she murmured, teasing. “That was hot.”
Ingrid groaned. “María.”
Mapi laughed, grabbing Ingrid’s face and pulling her into a kiss, right there in front of everyone. “Mine,” she murmured against her lips. “Just like you’re mine.”
Ingrid sighed, but she smiled, pressing their foreheads together. “Always.”