⠀⠀୧⠀⠀𓈒⠀⠀ ֺ AMNESIA. !
📃 — sorry if this is short ! i was rushing to finish some other stuff atm
she joins your streams randomly and trolls you hardcore: “yo why’d you pick that weapon? i literally told you—” and the chat LOVES it because your girlfriend’s chaos is unmatched.
katelyn insists on bringing the whole team to watch a big stream event in person. free snacks + your gameplay hype = instant yes from them.
she steals your headset to whisper stuff while you’re live. “look at you. focused and cute. i can’t.” chat is screaming and you’re dying. when you win a game, she’s the first to celebrate.
katelyn has a spreadsheet of all your past streams so she can quote your funniest moments back to you. “remember this? remember when you fell off that cliff? iconic.”
she calls you her “streaming queen” and it sticks. you can’t escape it, and you don’t want to.
sypnosis. judea x fem!reader. where you have a sports podcast and ju really wants to be on it, so you finally say yes!!
warnings. fluff, and this is my first ju fic, so pls don’t judge bcus i’m trying okay
recommended song. chest pain by malcom todd
audrey’s on air. hi babies!! so yes we wil be having ju on my podcast today, uhm comment down below who you want next? luv yall. oh and ik that i didnt really include all that there was needed, i was just very tired and my back hurts real bad ☹️
You had been running your sports podcast for a few months now since moving to California, and it was… going okay. Not spectacular, but not terrible. You loved the work, loved the conversations, loved the feeling of having a mic in front of you and just talking sports like it was second nature.
And then there was Juju.
Juju Watkins—the basketball prodigy, the highlight reels, the person who could dunk on anyone wearing sneakers—and somehow your friend. She had been begging you for weeks to be on your podcast. “It’ll be fun! I promise I won’t break anything!” she’d say, practically bouncing in your living room. But every time you brought it up, she’d chicken out at the last minute.
Until today.
You were setting up the microphones in your tiny studio corner (aka your living room with strategically placed acoustic panels and some cheap soundproofing foam), and Juju walked in, hoodie zipped up to her chin, hair in a messy bun, and that signature bright smile.
“Today’s the day,” you said, grinning, and she mimicked your grin like a mirror.
“Yup. Totally ready. I got this” she replied, and you immediately knew she was lying.
You handed her a mic, and immediately, chaos ensued. She poked at it like it was a tiny alien, turned knobs, whispered, “Wait, is this thing on?” and then leaned forward way too close to it, almost nose-to-mic collision.
“Juju—” you started, trying to keep your laughter in check.
“I’m so sorry! I don’t know how to adjust this stupid thing!” she groaned, finally leaning back and throwing her hands up. “I swear, every time I do a podcast on my team’s media stuff it’s like… magic happens and I don’t touch anything!”
You laughed so hard that you had to hold your stomach. “It’s okay, it’s okay. You just gotta chill with the leaning and twisting, and I’ll help you out.”
Thirty seconds later, she was finally set up, a little flustered but smiling. You pressed the record button, and the first few minutes were… rough. Juju kept fidgeting, adjusting her mic, leaning too close, leaning too far, and whispering, “Do I sound okay? Can you hear me? Wait, am I too quiet?”
By the time you’d gotten past the introductions, though, she had settled in. The podcast went smoothly after that—laughing at your inside jokes, giving her takes on games, and somehow managing to make your audience love her even more just by being… Juju.
At the end, you both flopped on the couch, exhausted but smiling.
“You’re gonna crush this episode,” you said.
Juju yawned dramatically and leaned against your shoulder. “Yeah… as long as no one listens to the first ten minutes where I almost broke the mic.”
You laughed again. “Don’t worry, we’ll call that the blooper reel. Honestly? That’s kind of perfect.”
And somehow, amidst the chaos of a mic that had almost defeated her, Juju had made your podcast feel more alive than ever. You wouldn’t have it any other way.
sypnosis. there’s nobody in this WORLD who loves caitlin clark more than your little sister ava, anyways ava heard that cait is coming to georgia for a game. and she MADE YOU buy the tickets, the game was amazing, but you couldn’t find your phone afterwords, and guess who had it? caitlin freakin clark.
warnings. none for right now.
dozzie’s diary. hi guys!! as we know i said i would be changing my theme a lot right..? well im kind of in a little bit of a dilemma because i wanna start writing for wnba, but idk
The thing about your little sister, Ava, is that she’s not just a fan of Caitlin Clark. No.
She’s a walking, talking stat sheet.
“Caitlin Clark has a 7.5 assist average, you know?” she’d say while brushing her teeth.
“Caitlin Clark dropped 41 on Michigan in 2023!” she’d yell across the house.
“CAITLIN CLARK LIKES SOUR PATCH WATERMELONS!!” she screamed the day you tried to eat the last one.
So when the Indiana Fever were coming to Georgia for an away game against the Dream, there was no escaping it.
You had to buy her tickets.
And honestly? You didn’t mind.
You didn’t know much about Caitlin besides what Ava screamed every morning, but watching her play that night?
Yeah… you got it.
The speed, the confidence, that little smirk after a three. She was unreal.
Ava had her Caitlin jersey on, holding a “I ❤️ #22” sign that nearly took out two people behind you. You just laughed, recording everything for her.
When the game ended, you were basically dragging your sister out of the stands — she wanted to “wait for Caitlin” like she was gonna magically appear through the tunnel.
Later that night, you realized something.
Your phone?
Nowhere.
You tore the car apart. Checked your pockets, bag, even under Ava’s booster seat. Nothing.
“Maybe you dropped it at the stadium,” Ava said, twirling her little sign. “You were screaming when Caitlin hit that logo three.”
You groaned, starting the car again. “Yeah, because your idol just melted my eardrums.”
But then—Ava gasped.
“WAIT.”
You looked at her. “What?”
She held up your iPad, showing your lock screen lighting up.
unknown number: hey, i think you left this behind at the arena.
– caitlin clark 🏀
You blinked. “...No way.”
Ava SHRIEKED. “CAITLIN. CLARK. HAS. YOUR. PHONE.”
Fifteen minutes later you were back at the stadium, nervously walking up to a side gate where a staff member waved you through. And there she was.
Caitlin freaking Clark.
Holding your phone in one hand, scrolling with that same concentrated look she had on the court.
“Uh—hi?” you said awkwardly.
She looked up, grin tugging at her lips. “Hey. I was trying to figure out how to unlock this so I could call someone, but I didn’t wanna snoop.”
“That’s probably good,” you laughed, rubbing the back of your neck. “You’d only find, like, twenty videos of my sister yelling about you.”
Caitlin chuckled. “So she’s the fan.”
“Oh yeah. She worships you.” You turned to Ava, who was completely frozen behind you. “Ava, say hi.”
Ava blinked. “...you’re real.”
Caitlin knelt a little. “Last time I checked.” She signed the edge of Ava’s sign, then looked at you again.
“You two live around here?”
“Yeah, about twenty minutes away. Sorry for the trouble.”
“No, don’t be,” she said softly. “I didn’t mind.”
You noticed the warmth in her voice, the little pause when she met your eyes. And okay, maybe you were imagining it, but it felt like something lingered there.
Before you could respond, Ava blurted,
“Can she take a picture with us?”
Caitlin laughed again. “Of course.”
She handed your phone back, and you took a selfie — her in the middle, you on one side, Ava holding her sign like a trophy.
As you turned to leave, Caitlin said quietly,
“Hey—if I find anything else that belongs to you…”
you raised a brow.
“…I’ll make sure to return it personally.”
Your heart definitely skipped.
“Thanks,” you said, trying to sound chill. “Guess I’ll start dropping things on purpose then.”
She smirked, backing up toward the bus.
“Noted.”
Back in the car, Ava was kicking her feet, still in shock.
And your phone buzzed again.
You laughed out loud.
Ava frowned. “What’s funny?”
“Nothing,” you said, putting your phone down with a smile. “Just… Caitlin Clark things.”
sypnosis. a lil quick blurb of ju x stoner!gf, where everyone thinks yall are perfect for each other but yall lowk toxic as asl, but yall make up for it by smoking.
warnings. smoking, uhm i think that’s it
dozzie’s diary. guys i believe it does get to a point cs why i was in class texting my friend cs she dropped out, and honestly i would too. and we was talking bout the teacher, and the teacher literally grabbed my phone and started reading my texts out loud. baby i was MORTIFIED. oh and sorry if this is short and horrible, i’m just really burnt out and tired rn
@muulabrat ❦
y’all weren’t the picture-perfect couple people swore you were. everyone saw the highlight reels — juju showing up courtside with her arm around you, your matching chain, her jersey number tattooed behind your ear. they didn’t see the yelling, the eye rolls, the slammed doors.
you two fought like it was a sport. loud, messy, emotional. she’d say something sharp, you’d bite back harder. and after a while, neither of you could even remember what started it
but somehow, it always ended the same way.
silence. rolling trays. a lighter flicking.
you’d be sitting on the floor, cross-legged, eyes still glassy from arguing, while she rolled the blunt with that same calm, focused expression she had before a game. she’d hand it to you without saying a word, and you’d take it like a truce.
“we good?” she’d mumble, voice low.
“we high,” you’d mutter back, blowing smoke toward the ceiling.
that was your language — smoke instead of sorrys. touches instead of talking.
she’d sit behind you after a few hits, legs open, arms wrapping around your waist. the air between y’all would soften — hazy, slow, like the world outside didn’t exist.
“you drive me crazy,” she’d whisper against your neck.
“you like it,” you’d say, half a laugh, half a sigh.
and she did. she liked the chaos, the heat, the way you challenged her. she just didn’t know how to love you gently yet.
oh nothing! just te-hina trying to balance out basketball and your baby, but she’s great she can get through it
@mrsarnold ღ
the world doesn’t stop just because you’re pregnant — not for her, not for you. but te-hina wishes it would, just for a little. just so she could breathe between practices, games, flights, and doctor appointments.
she never complains though. never. she just… moves. she gets up before sunrise, kisses your forehead softly, whispers something about being home before midnight, and grabs her duffle bag on the way out.
and when she does come home — tired, sore, quiet — she still finds her way to you. always. her hands instinctively press over your bump, her head resting against it like she’s trying to hear every heartbeat, every kick.
“did they move today?” she whispers, voice heavy with exhaustion. you nod. “a lot. probably your biggest fan.”
she laughs — that soft, sweet sound that makes your chest ache. “yeah? guess they’re a paopao already.”
it’s not easy though. sometimes you wake up to her crying in the kitchen. little, shaky sobs muffled into her hoodie sleeve because she thinks you can’t hear. she’s overwhelmed — by love, by pressure, by the fear of not being enough.
but you always find her. you wrap your arms around her waist and remind her, “you’re doing amazing, hina. both of you are.”
and she just melts. her hands trace lazy circles over your belly again. “i don’t wanna miss anything,” she admits one night. “their first steps, first words… i’m scared basketball’s gonna make me miss it all.”
you tilt her chin up. “you won’t. we’ll make it work. i’ll record everything if i have to.” she smiles — tired but real. “you’re the best.”
when the team travels, she leaves notes taped everywhere. on the fridge: drink water. on the bathroom mirror: you’re beautiful, even if you don’t feel like it right now. on the pillow: me and the baby love you more than words.
and when she’s home again, she’s home. she talks to your belly between naps, plays soft island music, and swears the baby kicks harder when they hear her voice.
one night after a win, she rushes through the door, still wearing her team hoodie, breathless and glowing. she doesn’t even take her shoes off before kneeling down in front of you. “did i miss anything?”
you smile, guiding her hand to your belly. kick. her eyes light up instantly. “see?” you whisper. “they were waiting for you.”
and te-hina just laughs through tears — because somehow, between basketball and family, chaos and calm, exhaustion and love… she’s balancing it all.
★ ALWAYS AN ANGEL, NEVER A GOD ─── CC²² (part 1/2)
❪ requested -> "Can you write something about cc and reader being enemies and hating eachother. but they are on two different teams so they play against eachother and something happens during one of their games and they take their hate out on eachother with smut?" ❫
─ warnings | lots of sexual tension (no smut, yet) slightly angst, reader is on LSU, singular kiss, trash talking, drinking, nothing else
─ ev's notes | okay so i'm not a super LSU fan, i just rly love hailey and angel so those are the only girls included in the fic LMAOOO, anyway. enjoy this heavy ass fic!
⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!
You couldn't stand Caitlin Clark.
Now, you couldn't really remember when this dislike had began. Ever since you laid on eyes on taller brunette, you hated how cocky she was. It wasn't just her cockiness that rubbed you the wrong way; it was the way she seemed to effortlessly outshine everyone around her, both on and off the court.
You watched as she dominated every game, her skills unparalleled, her talent undeniable. It felt like she was born to be a star, while you struggled to keep up. And while her talent was undeniable, it was her attitude that really got under your skin. She seemed to revel in her superiority, never missing an opportunity to remind everyone just how good she was.
But perhaps what bothered you most was the fact that despite your best efforts, you couldn't seem to escape her shadow. No matter how hard you worked, no matter how much you improved, you were always just one step behind her. It was frustrating, infuriating even, to constantly be compared to someone who seemed so effortlessly perfect.
Well ─ at least, in your eyes. You were still one of the best players in the entire nation, however you were always second best to Princess Caitlin Clark. You'd been the second best prospect in your year, trailing behind her like a persistent shadow. And it wasn't just the comparisons that irked you; it was the constant reminder of your perceived inadequacy, the feeling of always being in her shadow.
You couldn't shake the resentment that bubbled within you every time Caitlin strutted onto the court, her aura of invincibility following her like a shadow. She thrived on the attention, basking in the adoration of fans and teammates alike. Meanwhile, you fought tooth and nail for every scrap of recognition, every ounce of respect that always seemed just out of reach.
That was, until the 2023 NCAA championship.
LSU versus Iowa ─ the most anticipated game of the season, who will take the W? It was the showdown everyone had been waiting for, the clash of titans to determine who would claim the coveted crown of college basketball supremacy.
And at the center of it all were you and Caitlin, two fierce competitors locked in a battle for glory.
You had chugged your redbull and strutted out on the court like you owned it, your eyes landing on the taller brunette who's eyes were already on you. In that moment, you knew that this game would be about more than just basketball; it would be a battle of wills, a clash of titans vying for supremacy. The tension in the air was palpable, so thick you could almost reach out and touch it.
The media frenzy surrounding the game only added to the pressure, with reporters clamoring for every tidbit of insight from both you and Caitlin. It was the clash of the season, the matchup everyone had been waiting for, and neither of you were about to disappoint.
Everyone felt the tension, the energy crackling in the air like electricity. The media never missed a chance to ask you or Caitlin about it, hyping up the matchup as the game. And as you stood there, facing off against Caitlin across the court, you knew that this was your chance to finally prove yourself, to silence the doubters and cement your legacy once and for all.
"Don't worry, Y/N," Hailey's voice echoed from behind you, you felt her hand your shoulder. "You'll end up winning this. You've trained too hard for anything else."
You nodded, taking in a deep breath to steady your nerves. Even your teammates knew the deep-rooted history with the brunette. It wasn't just about LSU versus Iowa; it was about L/N versus Clark, a battle for supremacy that had captured the attention of fans and media alike.
As the referee signaled the start of the game, you focused all your attention on the task at hand. Caitlin stood across from you, a worthy adversary with a reputation to match. But you were ready, mentally and physically prepared to give it everything you had.
You were tasked to guard her and you weren't planning on letting her get an inch of space. Every move she made, every dribble, every feint, you were right there, anticipating her next move with razor-sharp focus. You could feel the intensity of her gaze, the determination in her eyes as she tried to outmaneuver you.
With each passing minute, you could see the frustration building in Caitlin's dark eyes, the realization dawning that you had expanded your skill set since the last time you'd met. And as the game wore on, you refused to let up, hounding her relentlessly from one end of the court to the other.
Then suddenly with 4 seconds on the clock before halftime, you saw your chance to prove your superiority. With speed, you intercepted one of Caitlin's passes, turning defense into offense in the blink of an eye. With a burst of speed, you drove towards the basket, leaving Caitlin in your wake as you soared through the air for an emphatic dunk.
In that moment, you knew that you had won more than just a single play ─ you had won a psychological battle, proving to Caitlin and everyone watching that you were more than just her equal.
Your teammates surrounded you but the cheers into background as Caitlin gazed at you, her usual determination into pure rage. But instead of feeling intimidated, a sense of satisfaction washed over you, a knowing smile playing at your lips.
You had waited for this moment, trained for it, dreamed about it. And now, as you looked into Caitlin's eyes, you could see the realization dawning on her ─ that you were not just her rival, but her equal, maybe even her superior. She wasn't unguardable, you'd just proven everyone wrong and Caitlin herself was forced to acknowledge it.
"The fuck are you smiling for?" Her words came out harsh as she walked toward you, letting her frustration get the best of her. You met her gaze head-on, unflinching despite the intensity of her glare ─ you felt your smile grow as laughter built up in your stomach, looking up at the brunette.
You couldn't resist a smirk at Caitlin's question, relishing the opportunity to get under her skin just a little more. "Because I just showed the world what real talent looks like," you shot back, your tone dripping with amusement. "Looks like being second best suits you, Caitlin."
Her jaw clenched, and for a moment, it seemed like she might lash out until her teammate put her hand on her shoulder. "Yeah, well, don't get too cocky," she muttered, her voice tinged with anger. "This isn't over, Y/N. I'll be back, and next time, I won't go easy on you."
You shrugged, undeterred by her threat. "Bring it on, Princess," you challenged, your smirk widening into a full-blown grin. "I'll be waiting ─ and smiling ─ for round two."
"Princess? You've gotta be kidding, who do the fuck do you think─" Caitlin cut herself off with a bitter laugh, shaking her head. She ignored your quip as she walked away, making sure to hit your shoulder as she walked away.
Before you could relish in the moment any longer, you felt Angel's hands on your shoulders as you met her gaze. You squealed in excitement as you both walked off the court toward your team.
The game continued after halftime, each possession a testament to your skill and determination. But no matter how hard Caitlin fought, she couldn't shake the knowledge that you had bested her, not just physically, but mentally as well.
And when the final buzzer sounded, signaling your LSU's victory, you knew that you had achieved more than just a win. You had proven yourself on the biggest stage, against the toughest competition, and emerged victorious.
As you celebrated with your teammates, the realization sunk in that this victory wasn't just about winning a game; it was about overcoming years of doubt and frustration, about proving to yourself and the world that you were capable of achieving greatness.
──
"Caitlin, tough loss out there tonight. How are you feeling after such a close game?" A reporter asked, their voice sympathetic.
Caitlin took a moment to collect her thoughts, her mind still buzzing with the intensity of the game. "Yeah, it's definitely disappointing to come up short like that," she replied, her voice tinged with frustration. "We gave it our all out there, but sometimes things just don't go your way."
But it was the next question that made Caitlin's stomach twist with unease. "Your matchup with Y/N was one of the most anticipated of the season. What was it like going head-to-head with her?"
She hesitated, knowing that whatever she said next would be scrutinized. "Y/N is a talented player, no doubt about it. I've known her for a while, we've played on the same team at some point," Caitlin answered carefully, her words measured. "She brought her A-game tonight, and it made for a tough battle on the court."
The tension in the room seemed to ratchet up a notch as another reporter pressed on. "There seemed to be some tension between you two out there. Can you speak to that?"
Caitlin's jaw tensed momentarily before she forced herself to relax. "Y/N and I have a history, for sure," she replied, her tone diplomatic. "But at the end of the day, it's just competition. We both want to win, and sometimes that can lead to some heated moments on the court. I don't hate her," she paused as she sighed. "She's a good player, props to her. She proved I'm not unguardable,"
Caitlin forced a smile as the reporters laughed, nodding. But it was the final question that caught Caitlin off guard, prompting a genuine, knowing smile to tug at the corners of her lips. "Do you think this game marks the end of your rivalry with Y/N?"
She paused, considering her response carefully. "No, ma'am. It's far from over, I haven't been beat yet,"
The reporters laughed again but she was dead serious. She couldn't wait until next year, she knew LSU would make it to the finals ─ and she'd finally prove to you once and for all, she is number one.
──
"It felt more like sexual tension to me, that's just me though," Hailey spoke up as she swirled her straw in her drink.
Hailey's remark caught you off guard, and you shot her a sharp glare, a mixture of surprise and annoyance flickering in your eyes. But before you could respond, she quickly held her hands up in defense, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips.
"Hey, don't shoot the messenger," she quipped, her tone light despite the tension in the air. "I'm just saying what everyone else is thinking. You should look at twitter. Actually, not right now ─ you're not gonna like it,"
"What do you mean?" You sent the blonde another look as she gave you a thin-lipped smile, shrugging.
Hailey gave you a thin-lipped smile, shrugging nonchalantly. "Just saying, you might want to avoid social media for a little while,"
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Why? What's going on?" you pressed, your patience wearing thin.
But before Hailey could respond, Angel interrupted, clapping you on the back and dragging you into a group huddle to celebrate the victory. As the cheers and laughter filled the air, you couldn't shake the feeling of annoyance that had settled in the pit of your stomach.
"Wait, wait, I have my film camera upstairs!" You shouted as the team let out a chorus of groans.
"Go get it!"
You grabbed your purse and ran up to the elevator. As you rode the elevator up to your room, your mind raced with thoughts of the game, the victory, and the impending celebration. You were texting your parents, not looking where you were going until you someone stopped you in your tracks, putting their hands on your shoulders.
You looked up to meet Caitlin's dark eyes, your excitement turning into annoyance. Her gaze was intense, and you could feel the weight of her stare boring into you. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the tension thick between you like a tangible force.
"Watch where you're going, you almost bumped into me," her voice was hoarse as your lips turned to a frown.
"Well I didn't," your eyes flickered to her hands, who were still lingering on your shoulders. You caught her gaze as she cleared her throat before slowly withdrawing them.
Neither of you moved, daring the other to break the tense silence that hung heavy in the air. The weight of Caitlin's stare bore into you, her dark eyes searching for something you couldn't quite name. Your own gaze remained locked with hers, a silent challenge passing between you.
"I don't get why you're being a bitch," her words came out soft but there was an edge to them. She didn't look like her usual self, she didn't give off the same energy she did on the court.
"What do you mean?" You scoffed, shaking your head. "It isn't about you, Caitlin. It's about winning and being a bitch is kinda part of the package,"
"No, I don't mean tonight. You always act like I'm the worst person alive, even when we played together. On the court, we were fine and then you didn't wanna talk to me after," Caitlin said, her voice tinged with frustration.
"Yeah, cause not everyone wants to be friends with you, Caitlin," you shot back as her hurt turned into annoyance.
"Yeah but we played well together, and if you'd committed to Iowa, like you said you would we would have been unstoppable," Caitlin's voice grew louder as she furrowed her eyebrows.
You scoffed. "Then I would've committed to a four years of being second to you, like I did All Iowa Attack. Plus I would have if you'd gone to UConn, like you said you would,"
"God, what is your obsession and being second to me!" Her frustration finally boiled over, her voice rising in anger as she locked eyes with you. "You're not even second to me. We're just good at different things and I get a little more recognition than you. Jesus Christ, you're so self-obsessed, not everything is about you."
"No, Caitlin, it's not about being self-obsessed," you shot back, your voice rising to match her intensity. "It's about feeling like I'm always playing second to you, no matter how hard I try."
Caitlin's eyes flashed with frustration, her jaw set in a stubborn line. "And what, you think I enjoy always being the one in the spotlight?" she retorted, her voice tinged with bitterness. "It's not as fun as you think, Y/N. All that recognition comes with its own set of pressures and expectations."
You scoffed, the anger bubbling up inside you. "Oh, cry me a river, Caitlin," you spat, the resentment clear in your tone. "At least you get the recognition. At least people know who you are."
"People know who you are too!" Caitlin's nostrils flared as she took a step closer, her gaze piercing into yours. You didn't even know how close she was until you could feel her body warmth radiating off of her as she looked down at you.
"Yeah, as the sidekick," you shot back, refusing to back down despite the proximity. "Always in your shadow, always second best."
Caitlin's jaw clenched, her frustration palpable as she fought to maintain her composure. "You think I don't know what it's like to feel overshadowed?" she snapped, her voice strained with emotion. "You think I don't feel the pressure to live up to everyone's expectations?"
You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. "Please, Caitlin," you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "You love the attention. You thrive on it."
Caitlin's gaze bore into yours, her eyes dark with intensity as she took a step closer, the space between you narrowing until there was barely a breath of air separating you. You could feel the heat radiating off her body, her proximity sending a shiver down your spine.
"Is that what you think?" she murmured, her voice low and husky, a hint of something unfamiliar dancing in her eyes. "That I love the attention?"
You swallowed hard, the heat of her gaze searing into your skin, igniting something unfamiliar within you. "Isn't it?" you shot back, your voice barely above a whisper.
"I don't like this new attitude, Y/N. I liked it better when used to you shut up and and take the heat," Caitlin interjected, her voice laced with a mix of frustration and something else you couldn't quite place.
Your breath caught in your throat, the intensity of Caitlin's words sending a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins. There was something different about her now, something raw that left you both exhilarated and irritated.
"I'm not the one who can't handle a little competition," you retorted, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you met Caitlin's gaze head-on.
Caitlin's jaw clenched, her eyes flashing with anger as she took another step closer, the heat of her body enveloping you in a cloud of desire. "And I'm not the one who needs to prove myself at every turn," she shot back, her voice low and dangerous.
"You're a bitch," you felt breathless as her gaze bore into yours.
"Yeah? Am I?" Her lips quirked into a smirk as she took in your appearance. You were always pretty, everyone knew it ─ people underestimated you, she sure had until tonight.
She wasn't dumb ─ she saw the way you looked at her and underneath all that hatred, she knew that you just wanted a little attention from her. Even after she'd committed to Iowa and you'd committed to LSU, Caitlin could see the way your gaze lingered on her more than it should have.
You felt a rush of heat rise to your cheeks at the intensity of her gaze, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. Despite the anger and frustration bubbling beneath the surface, there was something undeniably exhilarating about the way Caitlin looked at you, as if she could see right through to your soul.
"Damn right you are," you shot back, your voice tinged with defiance as you met her gaze head-on.
Caitlin's smirk widened, a glint of something dangerous flickering in her eyes as she closed the distance between you, her body inches away from yours.
"And you love it," she murmured, her voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.
Before you could respond, Caitlin's lips crashed against yours in a searing kiss that left you breathless, the heat of her touch igniting a fire deep within you.
She pressed her lips against yours harshly and the two of you momentarily decided to forget how you two were in the hotel hallway, where anyone could step out and see this scene unfolding.
"Oh fuck," you moaned into the kiss as she pressed closer, your words muffled against her lips.
But Caitlin didn't seem to care about the risk of being caught, her hands roaming freely over your body as she deepened the kiss, her touch igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you both.
You melted into her embrace, your mind clouded with desire as you lost yourself in the heat of the moment. For a fleeting instant, nothing else mattered ─ not the rivalry, not the consequences, nothing but the intoxicating passion that pulsed between you and Caitlin.
Caitlin pulled away harshly, a desperate whimper coming out of your lips as she glared down at you. She licked her lips as she let go of you, your face contorting into annoyance. Was she teasing you?
"What the hell, Cait?" you demanded, your voice laced with a mixture of irritation and longing. "Why'd you stop?"
Caitlin's gaze bore into yours, intense and unreadable, as she licked her lips with a slow, deliberate motion that sent a shiver down your spine. There was a hunger in her eyes, a primal desire that mirrored your own, yet something held her back, a barrier between you that neither of you seemed willing to breach.
"I'm not fucking you until we win," she replied, her voice low and husky, the words a mere whisper against the charged silence that enveloped you both. "Until I get the trophy, until your team loses."
"So you're gonna wait a whole year?" You scoffed, incredulity lacing your tone as you struggled to comprehend Caitlin's reasoning. The idea of waiting seemed absurd, especially in the midst of the intense desire that pulsed between you. "Well good luck, cause we're not going to."
"Yeah, and until you cut the fucking attitude. It doesn't suit you, Y/N." Caitlin's words were sharp, a harsh reminder of the tension that simmered beneath the surface of your interactions.
"Fuck you," you scoffed as she smirked. She just shook her head as she walked away, leaving you alone and so desperately needy.
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