author's note: hi! i'm still taking a break, just wanted to write these quickly for my queen @b1genem1es . i also might write some an alphabet nsfw for cc tomorrow but that's about it other than the pb series i'm working on on my own time. that may come out in the next month or two. it depends on how much i write it.
masterlist || masterlist pt. 2 || wattpad || tiktok
headcannon 1
oh she is so clingy, like this girl loves being around you all the time
✶ she loves holding your hand in public obviously. if she's not, maybe she's gripping onto a part of your shirt or your waist. basically, she's following you around like a puppy dog
✶ she loves snuggles, like immediately after she gets home from practice, she drags you to bed or the couch, and she lies right on top of you and buries her face in your neck. ava would totally be the small spoon, occasionally big when she's feeling it too, though
✶ she loves it when you play with her hair/braid it
headcannon 2
she's so so so obsessed with you. she loves doing everything
✶ she loves to show up to your apartment with flowers randomly or order them to get delivered to you at work
✶ you guys would plan for a date, but then she would decide that she wants you all to herself (no waiters looking at you, she claims) and orders takeout for you two to eat while watching a movie
✶ in an interview, a reporter would ask about you, and she would ramble about you for a bit and then pull out her phone, proudly showing a picture of you as her lockscreen. her face would totally heat up and turn red
headcannon 3
i feel like she would be kind of shy during games
✶ like yes, she likes when you come watch her play, but at the same time, she gets a little nervous knowing that you're going to be in the crowd
✶ in all honesty, i feel like she would avoid your gaze even though she knows exactly where you're sitting, but when she catches your eye, her face would heat up and turn red as she bites her lip to hide a smile.
headcannon 4
smutty headcannonsssss
✶ i feel like she would be a switch, but preference for bottom, like she screams bottom to me, and I'm so sorry if you hate that. but when she's topping, she's like a sub top if that makes sense. like she loves praise, and she loves being able to like look up at you as your hand grips her chin
✶ oh this girl loves using that strap on you, and she loves taking it
✶ she would totally be a secret freak, like whispering things in your ear when you're out, so no one knows what she's saying, but like making you squirm
✶ she loves watching you ride her, like with your boobs bouncing and the slightly dazed expression on your face. she loves watching the strap slip in and out of you
author's note: hi! i'm still taking a break, just wanted to write these quickly for my queen @b1genem1es . i also might write some an alphabet nsfw for cc tomorrow but that's about it other than the pb series i'm working on on my own time. that may come out in the next month or two. it depends on how much i write it.
masterlist || masterlist pt. 2 || wattpad || tiktok
headcannon 1
oh she is so clingy, like this girl loves being around you all the time
✶ she loves holding your hand in public obviously. if she's not, maybe she's gripping onto a part of your shirt or your waist. basically, she's following you around like a puppy dog
✶ she loves snuggles, like immediately after she gets home from practice, she drags you to bed or the couch, and she lies right on top of you and buries her face in your neck. ava would totally be the small spoon, occasionally big when she's feeling it too, though
✶ she loves it when you play with her hair/braid it
headcannon 2
she's so so so obsessed with you. she loves doing everything
✶ she loves to show up to your apartment with flowers randomly or order them to get delivered to you at work
✶ you guys would plan for a date, but then she would decide that she wants you all to herself (no waiters looking at you, she claims) and orders takeout for you two to eat while watching a movie
✶ in an interview, a reporter would ask about you, and she would ramble about you for a bit and then pull out her phone, proudly showing a picture of you as her lockscreen. her face would totally heat up and turn red
headcannon 3
i feel like she would be kind of shy during games
✶ like yes, she likes when you come watch her play, but at the same time, she gets a little nervous knowing that you're going to be in the crowd
✶ in all honesty, i feel like she would avoid your gaze even though she knows exactly where you're sitting, but when she catches your eye, her face would heat up and turn red as she bites her lip to hide a smile.
headcannon 4
smutty headcannonsssss
✶ i feel like she would be a switch, but preference for bottom, like she screams bottom to me, and I'm so sorry if you hate that. but when she's topping, she's like a sub top if that makes sense. like she loves praise, and she loves being able to like look up at you as your hand grips her chin
✶ oh this girl loves using that strap on you, and she loves taking it
✶ she would totally be a secret freak, like whispering things in your ear when you're out, so no one knows what she's saying, but like making you squirm
✶ she loves watching you ride her, like with your boobs bouncing and the slightly dazed expression on your face. she loves watching the strap slip in and out of you
author's note: hi! i'm still taking a break, just wanted to write these quickly for my queen @b1genem1es . i also might write some an alphabet nsfw for cc tomorrow but that's about it other than the pb series i'm working on on my own time. that may come out in the next month or two. it depends on how much i write it.
masterlist || masterlist pt. 2 || wattpad || tiktok
headcannon 1
oh she is so clingy, like this girl loves being around you all the time
✶ she loves holding your hand in public obviously. if she's not, maybe she's gripping onto a part of your shirt or your waist. basically, she's following you around like a puppy dog
✶ she loves snuggles, like immediately after she gets home from practice, she drags you to bed or the couch, and she lies right on top of you and buries her face in your neck. ava would totally be the small spoon, occasionally big when she's feeling it too, though
✶ she loves it when you play with her hair/braid it
headcannon 2
she's so so so obsessed with you. she loves doing everything
✶ she loves to show up to your apartment with flowers randomly or order them to get delivered to you at work
✶ you guys would plan for a date, but then she would decide that she wants you all to herself (no waiters looking at you, she claims) and orders takeout for you two to eat while watching a movie
✶ in an interview, a reporter would ask about you, and she would ramble about you for a bit and then pull out her phone, proudly showing a picture of you as her lockscreen. her face would totally heat up and turn red
headcannon 3
i feel like she would be kind of shy during games
✶ like yes, she likes when you come watch her play, but at the same time, she gets a little nervous knowing that you're going to be in the crowd
✶ in all honesty, i feel like she would avoid your gaze even though she knows exactly where you're sitting, but when she catches your eye, her face would heat up and turn red as she bites her lip to hide a smile.
headcannon 4
smutty headcannonsssss
✶ i feel like she would be a switch, but preference for bottom, like she screams bottom to me, and I'm so sorry if you hate that. but when she's topping, she's like a sub top if that makes sense. like she loves praise, and she loves being able to like look up at you as your hand grips her chin
✶ oh this girl loves using that strap on you, and she loves taking it
✶ she would totally be a secret freak, like whispering things in your ear when you're out, so no one knows what she's saying, but like making you squirm
✶ she loves watching you ride her, like with your boobs bouncing and the slightly dazed expression on your face. she loves watching the strap slip in and out of you
author's note: hiiii! okay so lo and sienna at the draft last night??? oh my actual god they're gorgeous. but im prob going to write a oneshot for sienna at the draft as well, just have no ideas for what i should make it about. lmk if you do. reqs are open!
masterlist || wattpad || tiktok
"You'll be fine," She whispers, bending down a bit so only you can hear. "I'll be with you, pretend it's just us,"
Raising an eyebrow at her, you give her a pointed look, shoving down the nerves for her sake. "If it were just us, you would be naked right now."
Standing up to her full height, Lauren's cheeks blush as she turns away from you, grabbing your hand. "Shut up, actually,"
You just smirk up at her, knowing exactly what's coursing through her right now. Heat and god do you want to feel it between her legs.
Together, you stand in line, waiting for your turn at the orange carpet. The rest of the draftees have been going solo so far, no one bringing their partners, but Lo insisted, telling you it'll be fine.
"Okay, it's us," She announces, watching KK and some of the huskies file out, leaving room for the pair of you to walk. "Just smile,"
Nodding with your hand in hers, you follow her, waving and softly smiling at the tens of cameras in front of you.
As soon as paparrazzi realizes you're together, they go insane, asking you to turn in all sorts of directions. Eventually, you get the hang of it, your anxiety loosening up as you gain confidence, Lauren's arm slung lazily around your waist.
Slowly, you make it down the short carpet, reaching the end with an exhausted sigh. "Bro, that was a lot."
"Definitely," She nods in return, guiding you through the small crowd of media reporters to the floor seats.
Together, you wait, whispering back and forth, giggling at the random jokes you tell each other until it's finally time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"And with the fourth pick, the Washington Mystics select Lauren Betts, UCLA!"
Errupting in applause, Lo's hands go to her face, covering herself as you rub her back, trying to give her the support she needs. Around you, her family claps and cheers, smiling as she stands up, hugging each of you before making her way up to the stage.
Of course, your phone is out the entire time, recording her as she holds up her jersey, posing for cameras. You can't even describe the feeling you're experiencing in this moment; it's surreal. You feel beyond proud as your girlfriend beams, her eyes on you practically the whole time. You're her rock, her grounding point, and she looks at you for the stabilization during this. You just smile back, clapping as tears gently prick your eyes, watching your girlfriend live out her dreams.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"How was having a year to play college basketball with your sister?" Holly asks, directing the microphone to Lo as she smiles into the camera.
"Amazing, it's honestly like a full circle moment, being able to play with her again,"
"I bet! And looking into the crowd, it's nice to see your support system out there, I bet."
"I mean, yeah, it’s been super nice to have my family, my friends, my girlfriend-” At the mention of you, she directs her smile at you, the crowd erupting into applause as you smile right back up at her, the panning to the camera you. "There she is, but no, yeah, it's been an amazing experience being able to have her by my side this entire time,"
"Well, Lauren, you go out there and celebrate with her, congrats!"
Nodding, she begins to head down the stairs, turning around to thank Holly before practically running back over to you.
She does a little dance, almost, jumping up and down with you, with your hands clasped. Gosh, you're so happy for her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Being ushered out, you follow Lo, your hand in hers as you make your way back to the black SUV waiting for you out front. Together, you duck in, giggling about something she did earlier in the night as you're driven back to the hotel to get ready for her after party.
This time around, she doesn't need a crew for her makeup and outfit, so it's just you two, alone in the hotel room.
"It's so quiet now," Your girlfriend says, fumbling with the key in her hand as she scans it across the door, letting you in.
"But good, right?"
She turns towards you after kicking her shoes off, nodding and smiling down at you. "Yeah, the good kind,"
Her eyes fall to your lips as she pulls you in, her hands on the swell of your ass. "You look so pretty tonight," You breath, your faces inches apart now.
"I think you might be even prettier,"
"Definitely not," You challange, both of your voices barely above a whisper. There's no need to be loud when your noses are practically touching.
You can feel the heat radiating through her dress, your bodies pressed closely together, your faces still barely touching.
"Baby?" You pull away just an inch, enough that she stands up a little straighter, looking back down at you. Grabbing her hand, you pull her further into your shared hotel room, kicking your shoes off before crawling onto the bed.
She stands at the foot, just watching, but you can see the pure heat in her eyes.
"I got something new that I wanted to show you,"
She doesn't answer, just nods and you can see her visibly swallow.
Slowly, you make a show out of dragging down the top of your dress, high on your knees as you pull the fabric down, tantenliznigly.
She watches for a minute, but with a groan, she honestly, can't take it anymore, stepping forward, she drags the top down fully, revealing a lacy black bra.
"Fuck," Her gaze is fully on your boobs as she moves her hands to cup them, sitting perfectly in her giant palms. "For me?"
Nodding, you look down at her as she looks up, your eyes finally meeting.
Standing up, with the top half of your dress off, you place your hands on her shoulders, allowing her to pull the rest off.
"God, we're never gonna even make it to the after party, bro,"
Pushing you back, she crawls on top of you, immeditely latching onto your neck as she kisses down the collum, her lipgloss leaving the skin wet and sticky, but you could care less.
"Off," You whine, tugging at her own dress, helping her pull it down until she's just left in her underwear.
Wrapping your arms around her neck, you pull her down once again, your mouths meeting in a heated frenzy as you fall into a ryhum of push and pull.
She sucks hard on your tongue before pulling away, hand finds your core through the lace as she digs her knuckles into your enterence. You grind down into her, practically pushing yourself in her hand as she makes her way down your body. You erupt in pleasure, pure want coursing through you as she smirks up at you, pulling your panties to the side.
"Ohmygod, Lo," Your fingers tangle into her hair, definitely messing it up, but that's a problem for later. She begins by testing a quick swipe through your folds, elicitng just the reaction she was expecting out of you. Your back arches off the bed as you grip her impossibly tighter, your law wide open as little whimpers escape you. "Yesyesyesyesyes,"
She then starts with putting a finger in, just one, but you're already going insane. God, how long had you been this needy for? Like you're about to cum.
She begins a slow stroking pace, in and out of you as she works her fingers, scissoring them on the way out.
"Fuck, you're tight," She groans, the sound of her hand pumping in and out of you is absolutely obscene, but it drives her crazy. Like she could get off just to the sound of your pussy and your moans.
It's been barely even a minute, but you're needy, and with all the pent up tension, your legs begin to shake.
How are you already this close?
Deciding to finish you off, Lo brings her head down, gently kissing the inside of your thigh before bringing your mouth to your aching clit that's pulsing hard, underneath her tongue.
With the feeling of her hands pumping and her tongue swirling, sucking, and licking circles around your clit, she feels your inner muscles clench around her digits before a wet release.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You're late!" Sienna shouts over the music as you approach her, Lo's hand resting on the small of your back as she guides you through the crowd already formed at the after party.
"We're sorry! Traffic!" Your girlfriend explains, an apologetic look on her face, even though her sister knows she's 100% lying.
With a pointed look on her face, Sienna looks between the two of you, crossing her arms over her chest. "Sure,"
The rest of the night is spent getting absolutely shitfaced, Lo's practically glued to you the entire time, some part of her touching at least some part of you the entire time.
sypnosis: what it would be like to date lauren betts (with height difference)
author's note: hiiii! okay so im like totally obsessed with her right now, so obvi i had to do this! i hope you like! also i promise im working through alysa requests, i'll try to do like 2 per day, but proabably like one just because im mostly a wbb account. reqs are open!
masterlist || wattpad || tiktok
headcannon 1
i feel like she absolutely uses your height difference to her advantage
✶ she would constantly tease you about how short you are (and you're not even that short). like she definitely jokes about it in interviews and stuff when she gets questions on it
✶ at the same time though, she loves helping you with things because she's so much taller than you. if you can't reach something on a shelf, she loves going around you, pulling it down for you and handing it to you with a kiss on your forehead
✶ both of you are honestly super clingy, so picking you up is one of her favorite things to do, especially when you're drunk.
headcannon 2
more on the topic of her being super clingy
✶ this girl is always trying to touch you. like her hands are on at least one part of you at all times, whether it's your back, holding your hands, playing with your hair, or tugging on your clothes while you walk in front of her, she loves it
✶ she loves to act like she's shorter sometimes, like maybe pretending like she's hiding behind you in public. also i feel like she would like it when you take more of a lead in public, honestly, preferring when you guide her through crowds and stuff to take the attention off her (also i feel like she would look so hot like trailing behind you with your hands lazily clasped)
✶ drunk lo is possibly even clingier. She tries to sit in your lap like all the time, and you let her, despite knowing it definitely won't work
✶ oh your girl is a cuddler, like she is fully wrapped around you in bed, you're definitely the big spoon, she loves being like held
✶ i feel like she wouldn't be huge on pda, but she still loves, like, kissing you lightly on the nose and stuff
headcannon 3
she would 100% have the stamina of gods in bed
✶ like you guys could go at it for hours, and she still wouldn't be tired
✶ she defintiely likes receiving as much as she likes giving, lo's definitely a switch
✶ she loves her nipples being played with, they're super duper sensitive
headcannon 4
aside from being romantic partners, she would definitely still make sure you're good friends as well
✶ you two would be absolute best friends, like completely inseparable. you know everything about her, she knows everything about you
✶ both of you are so giggly together all the freaking time, like you have a million inside jokes that you love to just say
School came easy to Charlotte.
She would only miss two days per semester, never had any late assignments, despite the AP and honors courses she was taking. After cheer practice would let out at 6:30, she would go home, shower, study, eat dinner at 10:00, rinse, and repeat.
On the weekends, if she wasn’t at a competition, she would go to her sister’s house and hangout with her older, cooler friends in the city.
Moving from Maryland to Los Angeles wasn’t difficult for Charlie. She was okay with leaving Bethesda behind to be closer to Kiki. She would go to the beach on the rare occasion that she didn’t have anything to do, though she didn’t like being bored or relaxing.
Sienna, however, was a runaway train.
She was in regular, College Prep classes, with a 2.75 GPA. She skipped school… a lot, often using basketball as an excuse as to why she showed up late, though her teammates would be staring at her as she walked in, Starbucks in hand, saying she was up late practicing.
The first impression Sienna had of Charlotte was a blur. It was Sienna’s first visit to UCLA after she committed. Naturally, Kiki showed her around the school once more.
“I feel like I basically know where everything is now, I mean I’ve been here so many times.” Sienna said, hands in her pockets.
“You’ve been to L.A. three times, Si, there’s no way you think you’ve seen all of it.” She tilted her head up to the younger, taller girl. “Besides, we have to stick to the itinerary that Cori gave us.”
Sienna groaned and Kiki stopped in her tracks.
“You’re such a…”
“Wonderful tour guide?”
“I was gonna say goody-two-shoes.”
“Are you six or eighty?”
“Where do you live?” Sienna changed the subject.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She didn’t have a comeback for that one. “We could stop by. It’s just up there and to the left.” Kiki said, pointing to where her apartment was. “My sister’s there right now. I think she’s cramming.”
The walk wasn’t long, but the California sun was beating down on the two. You could get a second-degree burn if you left your hand on either of their heads for too long.
They were both panting like dogs by the time Kiki put her key in the door.
“Fuck, I’m like dying.” She went up to the cabinet to grab two glasses. Sienna stopped following Kiki for a while, taking in the new environment.
The first thing Sienna noticed about Charlotte were her eyes. They were a dark blue, almost navy, and brown near the pupils. Despite the tenebrous appearance of them, they had a light in them, one that Sienna had never seen before. She found it particularly interesting that they still shined in Kiki’s dim apartment. Her eyes were different from Kiki’s, Sienna noted.
The next thing she noticed were the girl’s pens. They were neatly arranged in a pastel-yellow pouch. There had to be at least 50 different colors. Sienna was never one to have colorful notes. Hell, she would be lucky if she even remembered to bring a pencil to school. But Charlotte’s paper was neat, and had hand-drawn diagrams on them.
The top of her paper read “Disk Method Integration”, making Sienna nearly throw up in her mouth.
“Hey, Char.” Kiki said, not even looking up from the ice cube tray to see her younger sister. She earned a groan in response. “How’s it looking?”
“I’ve been staring at this laptop since you left. I don’t understand it at all. Literally all of the letters are blurring together.” The youngest girl said with her head in her hands.
Sienna had her arms crossed, standing next to Kiki while watching the interaction between the two sisters.
Kiki made her way to her sister and wrapped her arms around her from behind.
“You’ll figure it out eventually.” She said as she rested her head atop Charlotte’s, “You always do.”
“Yeah, I need ‘eventually’ to come a little sooner.”
“Maybe you’re working yourself too hard? Take a nap or something, Char.” Kiki moved her head up and removed her arms from Charlotte.
“You know how I feel about you saying that.” She said while turning her head to make eye contact with her sister.
Sienna resorted to picking at the skin around her nail instead of continuing to watch what seemed to be a vulnerable moment for Charlotte.
She recalled what Lauren had told her about Kiki’s younger sister.
“She just doesn’t take breaks, you know?”
It was a weekend in February.
Sienna was grounded, and Lauren was going to the beach.
She wasn’t jealous of the attention that Charlotte was getting. In fact, she was glad that Lauren had found a replacement younger sister who was nothing like her.
Somehow, the conversation always ended up drifting towards Charlotte.
“Charlotte’s never been grounded”
“I’ll call you back, Kiki said that Charlotte is freaking out over some psych paper.”
“Charlotte loves to eat at this one place”
“Charlotte got first place at her cheer competition”
“I’m sure I could ask Charlotte to help you with chemistry”
“Charlotte”
“Charlotte”
“Charlotte”
Yeah, must suck, being so perfect, Sienna thought.
A/N
Lowkey not proofread
So sorry for leaving you guys hanging i did not want to write at all omg
pairing: ucla!lauren!teammate!friends!lovers x ucla!reader!teammate!friends!lovers
wc: 3.8k
summary: after one late practice confession under humming gym lights, you’re forced to confront the difference between where you’re expected to belong and where your heart has already decided to stay.
🏷️:
the gym had been very much alive, in such a whirlwind of squeaking sneakers, sharp whistles, and the steady percussion of basketballs striking hardwood. yet now the echoes had stretched long and thin, clinging to the rafters as though reluctant to leave.
the scent of sweat and rubber had mingled with the faint chill of evening air creeping through the high windows, and somewhere near the scorer’s table a forgotten water bottle had tipped onto its side, rolling lazily until it settled into stillness. practice had ended, but the court still breathed.
lauren had remained at the free-throw line, her tall frame illuminated beneath the fluorescent glow. sweat had dampened the collar of her practice shirt, darkened in uneven patches across her back, and a few loose curls had escaped the tie at the nape of her neck.
her brow was furrowed in such quiet concentration as she dribbled once, twice, before lifting the ball and releasing it in one fluid motion. the net had answered with a soft whisper, obedient and clean, as though it knew better than to resist her.
you had lingered near the baseline, seated on the bench with your elbows resting against your knees. your phone had vibrated against the wood, the sound startling in the otherwise hollow quiet. his name had glowed brightly across the screen, insistent and familiar. yet you had let it dim without reaching for it, your gaze instead fixed on the empty stretch of court before you.
“you gonna answer that?” lauren had called out, not yet turning to face you. her voice had carried easily across the space, steady and low. “it’s fine,” you had replied, far too quickly. “i’ll call him back.”
the ball had struck the floor again, rhythmic and deliberate. “mhm,” she had hummed, as though filing that answer away for later. another shot had followed, another perfect swish, before she finally let the ball roll free.
it had bounced once near the sideline and drifted toward the bleachers, forgotten. lauren had walked toward you then, her strides unhurried, shoulders relaxed in that way that made it seem as though the court belonged to her more than anyone else.
she had lowered herself beside you, close enough that the warmth of her skin had brushed against yours. “you look like you’re waiting for something,” she had said quietly. “i’m not.”
“you always say that.” the faintest hint of a smile had touched her mouth, though it hadn’t reached her eyes. your phone had vibrated again. you had turned it face down. lauren had noticed, she always did.
the gym had felt larger then, almost cavernous, the emptiness amplifying every breath and shift of fabric. you had told yourself it was nothing that it was just exhaustion settling into your bones after a long practice. yet there had been something heavier pressing against your chest, something that had nothing to do with drills or conditioning. “you going over there tonight?” she had asked, her tone careful.
“yeah,” you had answered. “i said i would.” she had nodded once, slow and thoughtful. “do you want to?” the question had hovered between you, fragile and dangerous. you had laughed softly, as though dismissing it. “lauren.”
“what?” she had replied, though her jaw had tightened almost imperceptibly. “it’s just a question.” the overhead lights had hummed faintly, filling the silence that followed. you had picked at the tape wrapped around your fingers, peeling at the edges in small, distracted motions.
“he’s good to me,” you had said at last. “that’s not what i asked.” her voice had softened then, the sharpness replaced by something almost pleading.
you had turned to look at her fully, taking in the way exhaustion had softened her features, the way vulnerability had crept into her eyes despite her efforts to hide it. she had leaned forward slightly, forearms resting on her thighs, as though bracing herself.
“i don’t want to mess anything up for you,” she had continued quietly. “i know you’re with him. i’ve always known that.” your throat had tightened. “but every time that phone lights up, you look like you’re somewhere else,” she had said. “and every time you stay here late, you look like you’re exactly where you want to be.”
the words had settled heavily you had opened your mouth to argue, to deflect, to insist that she was reading too much into it yet nothing had come out. lauren had exhaled slowly, standing and taking a few steps onto the court once more. her hands had rested briefly on her hips before she ran one hand through her curls, gaze lifting toward the darkened scoreboard.
“home isn’t supposed to feel like something you’re avoiding,” she had said softly, almost to herself. you had risen from the bench, the distance between you suddenly unbearable. “what are you saying?” you had asked. she had turned then, eyes meeting yours in a way that made your pulse stumble.
“i’m saying,” she had begun, voice steady despite the tremor beneath it, “that maybe home isn’t a place. maybe it’s a person.” your phone had buzzed again neither of you had looked at it. the gym had felt impossibly still in that moment, as though even the lights were holding their breath.
“and when you’re here,” she had added, taking one hesitant step closer, “you don’t look like you’re trying to be anywhere else.” your heart had pounded against your ribs, loud and unrelenting. “lauren—”
“i know,” she had interrupted gently. “i know this is complicated. i know you’re not free.” her gaze had softened, though the ache within it was unmistakable. “i just needed you to know,” she had finished, voice barely above a whisper, “that when you’re with me, you feel like home.”
the word had echoed between you, fragile and overwhelming and for the first time, standing beneath those humming lights, you had begun to question whether the place you kept returning to had ever truly been home at all.
the silence that followed had not been empty. it had been full—thick with breath, with hesitation, with the low electric hum of fluorescent lights overhead. somewhere near the far baseline, a ball had continued to roll in a slow, lazy arc before finally surrendering to stillness.
lauren had not moved closer, she had not reached for you and somehow that restraint had undone you more than anything else could have. “you don’t have to say anything,” she had murmured after a moment, her voice softer now, as though she were afraid to disturb something fragile between you. “i didn’t tell you so you’d feel cornered.”
you swallowed, your hands flexing uselessly at your sides. “then why did you tell me?” her gaze flickered, uncertain for once. she had always been steady—on the court, in the locker room, in every space she occupied yet now there was something almost unguarded about her.
“because it’s exhausting pretending i don’t feel it,” she admitted. “and it’s worse pretending you don’t.” your breath caught the overhead lights buzzed faintly, the only witness to a confession neither of you had planned.
“i’m with him,” you said, though the words felt thinner than they ever had before. “i know.” she stepped closer then, not enough to touch, but enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from her skin. enough that the air between you felt charged.
“i’ve never asked you to leave him,” she continued. “i’ve never tried to cross that line.”
“but?” her jaw tightened slightly. “but every time you stay late just to shoot around with me,” she said quietly, “every time you look at your phone like it’s an interruption instead of something you want…it makes me think maybe you already know.”
your phone buzzed again but this time, the sound felt intrusive, sharp, misplaced. you didn’t look down. instead, your eyes stayed locked on hers. “know what?” you whispered. lauren hesitated. it was subtle—a flicker of doubt that passed through her expression before she steadied herself. “that you’re not running toward him,” she said. “you’re running away from something else.”
the words settled deep, as you thought of evenings spent at his apartment, of conversations that skimmed the surface, of the way your laughter there never quite reached your chest. you thought of how you always checked the time. how you always left a little earlier than planned and then you thought of here.
of staying long after practice ended, of the way your shoulders relaxed when lauren sat beside you, of the way her presence quieted something restless inside you. “this isn’t fair,” you said softly. “to him?” she asked. “to anyone.” lauren let out a slow breath. “feelings aren’t fair.” another pause.
“but they’re honest.” the gym felt smaller now, the space between you narrowing with every word. you could see the faint crease between her brows, the vulnerability she was trying to mask with composure. “i don’t want to be the reason you blow up your life,” she added, her voice steadier than her eyes. “i don’t want to be the secret you regret.” you shook your head instinctively. “you’re not a secret.”
“then what am i?” the question was not accusatory, it was open, waiting. you stepped closer without realizing you had moved. “you’re…” your voice faltered.
steady, safe, home but saying it aloud felt like crossing something irreversible. lauren’s gaze dropped briefly to your mouth before lifting again, restraint evident in the way she held herself back.
“if you walk out of here tonight and go to him,” she said quietly, “i’ll respect it. i’ll still be your friend. i’ll still show up tomorrow like nothing happened.” the generosity of that hurt more than anger would have.
“but if you stay,” she continued, “if you finally admit you feel it too…then don’t do it halfway.” your heart pounded so loudly you were certain she could hear it. your phone vibrated once more. this time, it stopped quickly—the call ending, the silence afterward felt definitive.
you glanced down at the darkened screen then back at her. for so long, you had convinced yourself that staying was loyalty. that choosing what was expected was safer than choosing what was true.
yet standing here, beneath the hum of gym lights and the scent of hardwood and sweat, you felt something shift. “when i’m here,” you said slowly, “i don’t feel like i have to try.” lauren didn’t move.
“when i’m with you,” you continued, your voice barely above a breath, “it feels easy. like i’m not performing. like i’m not pretending to be the version of myself that fits.” her composure cracked, just slightly. “that’s what home feels like,” she said.
not demanding, not pressuring, just certain as your chest tightened, but not in the suffocating way it had before. this was different but this felt like clarity pressing against fear.
you took one final step forward. close enough now that there was no space left between you. lauren’s hands hovered at her sides, as if waiting for permission she would never take without being given. “i don’t know what this means yet,” you admitted. “i don’t know how messy it’s going to get.”
“it might get ugly,” she said honestly. “probably.” a fragile smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “but i know,” you said, voice steady now, “that i don’t want to keep walking away from the only place that feels right.”
for a moment, neither of you moved then slowly, carefully, lauren lifted her hand—giving you every opportunity to pull back. you didn’t. her fingers brushed against yours first, tentative and warm, not possessive, not rushed but just there and in that quiet gym, with the world outside waiting and your phone dark at your feet, you realized something undeniable.
home had never been a destination, it had been standing in front of you all along.
the realization did not arrive gently. it settled into your chest like something heavy and irreversible, like the final buzzer in a game you could no longer rewind.
lauren’s fingers were still curled loosely around yours, tentative, as though she expected you to pull away at any second. she was giving you an out. she had always given you an out. you didn’t take it instead, your hand tightened around hers.
the contact was small, almost insignificant—just skin against skin—yet it felt louder than any confession. her breath hitched softly, the only sign that she felt the shift too. “are you sure?” she asked, barely above a whisper.
it wasn’t doubt in her voice, it was care as you looked down at your phone on the hardwood, the screen dark and still. no more vibrations, no more interruptions, just silence.
for the first time, the silence didn’t feel like avoidance but it felt like space. “i don’t want to keep pretending,” you said, the words steadier than you expected. “i don’t want to keep leaving here feeling like i’m abandoning something.”
“you’re not abandoning me,” she said quickly but you shook your head. “i’ve been abandoning myself.” the admission cracked something open between you.
lauren exhaled slowly, her free hand lifting to rest lightly at your waist—not pulling, not claiming, just grounding. the warmth of her palm through the thin fabric of your practice shorts sent a quiet shiver through you. “i never wanted to be the reason you walked away from him,” she said. “you’re not.”
“then what am i?” the question returned, softer this time, less defensive but more vulnerable. you stepped closer, until your shoes brushed hers, until the space between your bodies disappeared entirely. “you’re the reason i don’t want to run anymore.”
her composure faltered. for someone so steady on the court, so confident in every post move and rebound, lauren looked almost undone standing there with you. her jaw tightened, her thumb pressing slightly into your hip as if she needed to anchor herself. “this changes everything,” she murmured. “i know.”
“he’s not going to understand.”
“i know.” the reality of that lingered heavy, complicated, inevitable but beneath it, something steadier held firm. lauren’s forehead dipped until it rested lightly against yours. the gesture was instinctive, intimate in a way that felt more profound than a kiss. “i don’t want to rush you,” she said softly. “i don’t want this to feel like pressure.”
“it doesn’t,” you replied. it felt like relief. you closed your eyes briefly, letting the warmth of her presence settle into you. her hands were firm but careful at your waist now, as though she still couldn’t quite believe you were choosing to stay. “what happens tomorrow?” she asked.
you let out a quiet breath. “tomorrow, i talk to him.” the words felt terrifying and freeing all at once. lauren pulled back just enough to search your face. “you don’t have to decide everything tonight.”
“i already have,” you said gently. not the logistics, not the fallout but the truth. the gym lights hummed overhead, casting soft shadows across her features. there was no audience here, no teammates, no expectations. just the two of you and the echo of something finally spoken. “i’ve been trying to make his apartment feel like home,” you admitted. “but it never did.”
her eyes softened. “this place does,” she said. you shook your head slightly. “not the gym.” your hand slid up to rest against her chest, feeling the steady rhythm beneath your palm.
“you.”
the word hung there, fragile and certain. lauren’s breath left her in a quiet rush, like she’d been holding it for months. “you’re gonna ruin me,” she whispered, though there was no fear in it. “i think we’ve both been ruined for a while.”
a faint smile tugged at her lips before fading into something more serious. her hand rose slowly, brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face. her touch was careful, reverent. “if we do this,” she said, “i’m not doing it halfway.”
“i know.”
“i don’t want to be the almost,” she added. “i don’t want to be the what-if you think about five years from now.” you met her gaze without flinching. “you won’t be.” for a moment, neither of you moved then, slowly, deliberately, she leaned in.
the kiss wasn’t rushed, it wasn't reckless but it was soft—hesitant at first, like testing the reality of something long imagined. her lips brushed yours gently, almost questioning.
you answered without hesitation. your hands slid up to her shoulders, pulling her closer as the last of your doubt dissolved. the world outside—the phone calls, the expectations, the life you had built out of obligation—faded into the background.
there was only this. her hands steadied at your waist, fingers tightening slightly as if she feared you might disappear if she didn’t hold on. the kiss deepened, not urgent but certain, like a door finally opening instead of knocking.
when you finally pulled back, breathless, the gym felt different. not empty, not hollow but so alive in a new way. lauren rested her forehead against yours again, a quiet laugh escaping her. “we’re gonna have to walk out of here eventually,” she said.
“yeah.”
“and it’s not going to be simple.”
“nothing worth staying for ever is.” she studied you carefully, as if memorizing the way you looked in this moment—steady, decided, no longer caught between two worlds. “you really mean it?” she asked one last time.
you glanced down at your phone on the floor then you bent, picked it up, and held down the power button until the screen went completely black when you looked back at her, there was no hesitation left. “yeah,” you said softly. “i do.”
and as lauren’s hand found yours again, lacing your fingers together with quiet certainty, you understood something else just as undeniable as before home wasn’t always easy but it was honest.
the truth did not arrive with fireworks or applause but there were no cheers from the bleachers, no dramatic swell of music, no cinematic moment to signal that everything had shifted. there was only the steady warmth of her hand in yours.
the faint scent of sweat and hardwood, the hum of lights that had witnessed more games than either of you could count. lauren did not rush you toward the exit. she did not claim victory or look triumphant. instead, she simply stood there, fingers threaded through yours, thumb brushing absent patterns across your knuckles as though grounding both of you in the present.
“we should probably lock up,” she said softly, glancing toward the doors. “yeah.” but neither of you moved.
you looked around the gym one more time—the empty bleachers, the quiet scoreboard, the free-throw line where she had stood only minutes before pretending not to watch you struggle. this place had been your refuge, your excuse, your in-between.
it would still be that just not in the same way as lauren squeezed your hand gently. “you okay?” the question was simple but it held everything.
you thought about the conversation waiting for you tomorrow about the hurt you would have to cause before you could step fully into something honest and about the version of yourself that had stayed small and agreeable for far too long. “i’m scared,” you admitted.
“i know.”
“i don’t want to hurt him.”
“i know.” she didn’t dismiss it, didn't minimize it but she let the weight of it exist. “but staying when your heart isn’t there hurts too,” she added quietly.
you nodded. she stepped closer, her free hand lifting to cup your jaw, thumb brushing just beneath your cheekbone. the gesture was careful, almost reverent. “i don’t need perfect,” she said. “i don’t need this to look clean or easy. i just need it to be real.”
real.
you leaned into her touch without thinking. “it is,” you whispered. the word felt different now—no longer fragile, no longer overwhelming.
steady.
you walked toward the exit together, fingers still intertwined. the sound of your footsteps echoed softly across the court. when lauren reached the light switch near the door, she paused. the gym glowed one last time beneath the fluorescents.
she looked at you and you nodded as the lights clicked off darkness settled gently over the hardwood, over the bleachers, over the place that had held your hesitation and your truth all at once.
outside, the night air was cool against your flushed skin. the campus parking lot was quiet, streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement. your phone rested silent in your pocket.
no buzzing, no pressure just space. lauren didn’t let go of your hand. “i’ll walk you to your car,” she said. you smiled faintly. “you don’t have to.”
“i want to.” the walk was slow, unhurried. not because you were stalling—but because neither of you felt the need to rush anymore. when you reached your car, you turned to face her fully. this was the part that mattered.
“tomorrow,” you said. “tomorrow,” she echoed.
“it might get messy.”
“probably.”
“you might get frustrated with me.”
“definitely.” you laughed softly. “but i’m not walking away,” you finished. lauren stepped closer, hands sliding to rest at your waist, firm and sure now. “good,” she said quietly. “because i’m not letting you.”
there was no possessiveness in it only promise. she kissed you again, deeper this time, less hesitant. not desperate—just certain. the kind of kiss that didn’t ask for forever but didn’t shy away from it either.
when you pulled back, your forehead rested against her chest for a moment. you listened to her heartbeat—steady, grounded, unwavering. “home,” you murmured without thinking. she stilled then her arms wrapped fully around you, holding you close in a way that felt protective but never confining.
“yeah,” she said softly into your hair. “you are.” you closed your eyes, breathing her in—the faint scent of practice, of laundry detergent, of something uniquely her.
the world outside would not pause for you tomorrow would come with conversations, consequences, adjustments but tonight, standing beneath quiet streetlights with her arms around you, you did not feel lost.
you felt found and as you finally pulled away, fingers brushing hers one last time before you slid into your car, you understood the final piece of it all: home was not the place you returned to out of habit.
it was the person who made you brave enough to choose differently. and for the first time in a long while, you were no longer driving toward something expected you were driving toward something true.
pairing: ucla!lauren!teammate!friends!lovers x ucla!reader!teammate!friends!lovers
wc: 3.8k
summary: after one late practice confession under humming gym lights, you’re forced to confront the difference between where you’re expected to belong and where your heart has already decided to stay.
🏷️:
the gym had been very much alive, in such a whirlwind of squeaking sneakers, sharp whistles, and the steady percussion of basketballs striking hardwood. yet now the echoes had stretched long and thin, clinging to the rafters as though reluctant to leave.
the scent of sweat and rubber had mingled with the faint chill of evening air creeping through the high windows, and somewhere near the scorer’s table a forgotten water bottle had tipped onto its side, rolling lazily until it settled into stillness. practice had ended, but the court still breathed.
lauren had remained at the free-throw line, her tall frame illuminated beneath the fluorescent glow. sweat had dampened the collar of her practice shirt, darkened in uneven patches across her back, and a few loose curls had escaped the tie at the nape of her neck.
her brow was furrowed in such quiet concentration as she dribbled once, twice, before lifting the ball and releasing it in one fluid motion. the net had answered with a soft whisper, obedient and clean, as though it knew better than to resist her.
you had lingered near the baseline, seated on the bench with your elbows resting against your knees. your phone had vibrated against the wood, the sound startling in the otherwise hollow quiet. his name had glowed brightly across the screen, insistent and familiar. yet you had let it dim without reaching for it, your gaze instead fixed on the empty stretch of court before you.
“you gonna answer that?” lauren had called out, not yet turning to face you. her voice had carried easily across the space, steady and low. “it’s fine,” you had replied, far too quickly. “i’ll call him back.”
the ball had struck the floor again, rhythmic and deliberate. “mhm,” she had hummed, as though filing that answer away for later. another shot had followed, another perfect swish, before she finally let the ball roll free.
it had bounced once near the sideline and drifted toward the bleachers, forgotten. lauren had walked toward you then, her strides unhurried, shoulders relaxed in that way that made it seem as though the court belonged to her more than anyone else.
she had lowered herself beside you, close enough that the warmth of her skin had brushed against yours. “you look like you’re waiting for something,” she had said quietly. “i’m not.”
“you always say that.” the faintest hint of a smile had touched her mouth, though it hadn’t reached her eyes. your phone had vibrated again. you had turned it face down. lauren had noticed, she always did.
the gym had felt larger then, almost cavernous, the emptiness amplifying every breath and shift of fabric. you had told yourself it was nothing that it was just exhaustion settling into your bones after a long practice. yet there had been something heavier pressing against your chest, something that had nothing to do with drills or conditioning. “you going over there tonight?” she had asked, her tone careful.
“yeah,” you had answered. “i said i would.” she had nodded once, slow and thoughtful. “do you want to?” the question had hovered between you, fragile and dangerous. you had laughed softly, as though dismissing it. “lauren.”
“what?” she had replied, though her jaw had tightened almost imperceptibly. “it’s just a question.” the overhead lights had hummed faintly, filling the silence that followed. you had picked at the tape wrapped around your fingers, peeling at the edges in small, distracted motions.
“he’s good to me,” you had said at last. “that’s not what i asked.” her voice had softened then, the sharpness replaced by something almost pleading.
you had turned to look at her fully, taking in the way exhaustion had softened her features, the way vulnerability had crept into her eyes despite her efforts to hide it. she had leaned forward slightly, forearms resting on her thighs, as though bracing herself.
“i don’t want to mess anything up for you,” she had continued quietly. “i know you’re with him. i’ve always known that.” your throat had tightened. “but every time that phone lights up, you look like you’re somewhere else,” she had said. “and every time you stay here late, you look like you’re exactly where you want to be.”
the words had settled heavily you had opened your mouth to argue, to deflect, to insist that she was reading too much into it yet nothing had come out. lauren had exhaled slowly, standing and taking a few steps onto the court once more. her hands had rested briefly on her hips before she ran one hand through her curls, gaze lifting toward the darkened scoreboard.
“home isn’t supposed to feel like something you’re avoiding,” she had said softly, almost to herself. you had risen from the bench, the distance between you suddenly unbearable. “what are you saying?” you had asked. she had turned then, eyes meeting yours in a way that made your pulse stumble.
“i’m saying,” she had begun, voice steady despite the tremor beneath it, “that maybe home isn’t a place. maybe it’s a person.” your phone had buzzed again neither of you had looked at it. the gym had felt impossibly still in that moment, as though even the lights were holding their breath.
“and when you’re here,” she had added, taking one hesitant step closer, “you don’t look like you’re trying to be anywhere else.” your heart had pounded against your ribs, loud and unrelenting. “lauren—”
“i know,” she had interrupted gently. “i know this is complicated. i know you’re not free.” her gaze had softened, though the ache within it was unmistakable. “i just needed you to know,” she had finished, voice barely above a whisper, “that when you’re with me, you feel like home.”
the word had echoed between you, fragile and overwhelming and for the first time, standing beneath those humming lights, you had begun to question whether the place you kept returning to had ever truly been home at all.
the silence that followed had not been empty. it had been full—thick with breath, with hesitation, with the low electric hum of fluorescent lights overhead. somewhere near the far baseline, a ball had continued to roll in a slow, lazy arc before finally surrendering to stillness.
lauren had not moved closer, she had not reached for you and somehow that restraint had undone you more than anything else could have. “you don’t have to say anything,” she had murmured after a moment, her voice softer now, as though she were afraid to disturb something fragile between you. “i didn’t tell you so you’d feel cornered.”
you swallowed, your hands flexing uselessly at your sides. “then why did you tell me?” her gaze flickered, uncertain for once. she had always been steady—on the court, in the locker room, in every space she occupied yet now there was something almost unguarded about her.
“because it’s exhausting pretending i don’t feel it,” she admitted. “and it’s worse pretending you don’t.” your breath caught the overhead lights buzzed faintly, the only witness to a confession neither of you had planned.
“i’m with him,” you said, though the words felt thinner than they ever had before. “i know.” she stepped closer then, not enough to touch, but enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from her skin. enough that the air between you felt charged.
“i’ve never asked you to leave him,” she continued. “i’ve never tried to cross that line.”
“but?” her jaw tightened slightly. “but every time you stay late just to shoot around with me,” she said quietly, “every time you look at your phone like it’s an interruption instead of something you want…it makes me think maybe you already know.”
your phone buzzed again but this time, the sound felt intrusive, sharp, misplaced. you didn’t look down. instead, your eyes stayed locked on hers. “know what?” you whispered. lauren hesitated. it was subtle—a flicker of doubt that passed through her expression before she steadied herself. “that you’re not running toward him,” she said. “you’re running away from something else.”
the words settled deep, as you thought of evenings spent at his apartment, of conversations that skimmed the surface, of the way your laughter there never quite reached your chest. you thought of how you always checked the time. how you always left a little earlier than planned and then you thought of here.
of staying long after practice ended, of the way your shoulders relaxed when lauren sat beside you, of the way her presence quieted something restless inside you. “this isn’t fair,” you said softly. “to him?” she asked. “to anyone.” lauren let out a slow breath. “feelings aren’t fair.” another pause.
“but they’re honest.” the gym felt smaller now, the space between you narrowing with every word. you could see the faint crease between her brows, the vulnerability she was trying to mask with composure. “i don’t want to be the reason you blow up your life,” she added, her voice steadier than her eyes. “i don’t want to be the secret you regret.” you shook your head instinctively. “you’re not a secret.”
“then what am i?” the question was not accusatory, it was open, waiting. you stepped closer without realizing you had moved. “you’re…” your voice faltered.
steady, safe, home but saying it aloud felt like crossing something irreversible. lauren’s gaze dropped briefly to your mouth before lifting again, restraint evident in the way she held herself back.
“if you walk out of here tonight and go to him,” she said quietly, “i’ll respect it. i’ll still be your friend. i’ll still show up tomorrow like nothing happened.” the generosity of that hurt more than anger would have.
“but if you stay,” she continued, “if you finally admit you feel it too…then don’t do it halfway.” your heart pounded so loudly you were certain she could hear it. your phone vibrated once more. this time, it stopped quickly—the call ending, the silence afterward felt definitive.
you glanced down at the darkened screen then back at her. for so long, you had convinced yourself that staying was loyalty. that choosing what was expected was safer than choosing what was true.
yet standing here, beneath the hum of gym lights and the scent of hardwood and sweat, you felt something shift. “when i’m here,” you said slowly, “i don’t feel like i have to try.” lauren didn’t move.
“when i’m with you,” you continued, your voice barely above a breath, “it feels easy. like i’m not performing. like i’m not pretending to be the version of myself that fits.” her composure cracked, just slightly. “that’s what home feels like,” she said.
not demanding, not pressuring, just certain as your chest tightened, but not in the suffocating way it had before. this was different but this felt like clarity pressing against fear.
you took one final step forward. close enough now that there was no space left between you. lauren’s hands hovered at her sides, as if waiting for permission she would never take without being given. “i don’t know what this means yet,” you admitted. “i don’t know how messy it’s going to get.”
“it might get ugly,” she said honestly. “probably.” a fragile smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “but i know,” you said, voice steady now, “that i don’t want to keep walking away from the only place that feels right.”
for a moment, neither of you moved then slowly, carefully, lauren lifted her hand—giving you every opportunity to pull back. you didn’t. her fingers brushed against yours first, tentative and warm, not possessive, not rushed but just there and in that quiet gym, with the world outside waiting and your phone dark at your feet, you realized something undeniable.
home had never been a destination, it had been standing in front of you all along.
the realization did not arrive gently. it settled into your chest like something heavy and irreversible, like the final buzzer in a game you could no longer rewind.
lauren’s fingers were still curled loosely around yours, tentative, as though she expected you to pull away at any second. she was giving you an out. she had always given you an out. you didn’t take it instead, your hand tightened around hers.
the contact was small, almost insignificant—just skin against skin—yet it felt louder than any confession. her breath hitched softly, the only sign that she felt the shift too. “are you sure?” she asked, barely above a whisper.
it wasn’t doubt in her voice, it was care as you looked down at your phone on the hardwood, the screen dark and still. no more vibrations, no more interruptions, just silence.
for the first time, the silence didn’t feel like avoidance but it felt like space. “i don’t want to keep pretending,” you said, the words steadier than you expected. “i don’t want to keep leaving here feeling like i’m abandoning something.”
“you’re not abandoning me,” she said quickly but you shook your head. “i’ve been abandoning myself.” the admission cracked something open between you.
lauren exhaled slowly, her free hand lifting to rest lightly at your waist—not pulling, not claiming, just grounding. the warmth of her palm through the thin fabric of your practice shorts sent a quiet shiver through you. “i never wanted to be the reason you walked away from him,” she said. “you’re not.”
“then what am i?” the question returned, softer this time, less defensive but more vulnerable. you stepped closer, until your shoes brushed hers, until the space between your bodies disappeared entirely. “you’re the reason i don’t want to run anymore.”
her composure faltered. for someone so steady on the court, so confident in every post move and rebound, lauren looked almost undone standing there with you. her jaw tightened, her thumb pressing slightly into your hip as if she needed to anchor herself. “this changes everything,” she murmured. “i know.”
“he’s not going to understand.”
“i know.” the reality of that lingered heavy, complicated, inevitable but beneath it, something steadier held firm. lauren’s forehead dipped until it rested lightly against yours. the gesture was instinctive, intimate in a way that felt more profound than a kiss. “i don’t want to rush you,” she said softly. “i don’t want this to feel like pressure.”
“it doesn’t,” you replied. it felt like relief. you closed your eyes briefly, letting the warmth of her presence settle into you. her hands were firm but careful at your waist now, as though she still couldn’t quite believe you were choosing to stay. “what happens tomorrow?” she asked.
you let out a quiet breath. “tomorrow, i talk to him.” the words felt terrifying and freeing all at once. lauren pulled back just enough to search your face. “you don’t have to decide everything tonight.”
“i already have,” you said gently. not the logistics, not the fallout but the truth. the gym lights hummed overhead, casting soft shadows across her features. there was no audience here, no teammates, no expectations. just the two of you and the echo of something finally spoken. “i’ve been trying to make his apartment feel like home,” you admitted. “but it never did.”
her eyes softened. “this place does,” she said. you shook your head slightly. “not the gym.” your hand slid up to rest against her chest, feeling the steady rhythm beneath your palm.
“you.”
the word hung there, fragile and certain. lauren’s breath left her in a quiet rush, like she’d been holding it for months. “you’re gonna ruin me,” she whispered, though there was no fear in it. “i think we’ve both been ruined for a while.”
a faint smile tugged at her lips before fading into something more serious. her hand rose slowly, brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face. her touch was careful, reverent. “if we do this,” she said, “i’m not doing it halfway.”
“i know.”
“i don’t want to be the almost,” she added. “i don’t want to be the what-if you think about five years from now.” you met her gaze without flinching. “you won’t be.” for a moment, neither of you moved then, slowly, deliberately, she leaned in.
the kiss wasn’t rushed, it wasn't reckless but it was soft—hesitant at first, like testing the reality of something long imagined. her lips brushed yours gently, almost questioning.
you answered without hesitation. your hands slid up to her shoulders, pulling her closer as the last of your doubt dissolved. the world outside—the phone calls, the expectations, the life you had built out of obligation—faded into the background.
there was only this. her hands steadied at your waist, fingers tightening slightly as if she feared you might disappear if she didn’t hold on. the kiss deepened, not urgent but certain, like a door finally opening instead of knocking.
when you finally pulled back, breathless, the gym felt different. not empty, not hollow but so alive in a new way. lauren rested her forehead against yours again, a quiet laugh escaping her. “we’re gonna have to walk out of here eventually,” she said.
“yeah.”
“and it’s not going to be simple.”
“nothing worth staying for ever is.” she studied you carefully, as if memorizing the way you looked in this moment—steady, decided, no longer caught between two worlds. “you really mean it?” she asked one last time.
you glanced down at your phone on the floor then you bent, picked it up, and held down the power button until the screen went completely black when you looked back at her, there was no hesitation left. “yeah,” you said softly. “i do.”
and as lauren’s hand found yours again, lacing your fingers together with quiet certainty, you understood something else just as undeniable as before home wasn’t always easy but it was honest.
the truth did not arrive with fireworks or applause but there were no cheers from the bleachers, no dramatic swell of music, no cinematic moment to signal that everything had shifted. there was only the steady warmth of her hand in yours.
the faint scent of sweat and hardwood, the hum of lights that had witnessed more games than either of you could count. lauren did not rush you toward the exit. she did not claim victory or look triumphant. instead, she simply stood there, fingers threaded through yours, thumb brushing absent patterns across your knuckles as though grounding both of you in the present.
“we should probably lock up,” she said softly, glancing toward the doors. “yeah.” but neither of you moved.
you looked around the gym one more time—the empty bleachers, the quiet scoreboard, the free-throw line where she had stood only minutes before pretending not to watch you struggle. this place had been your refuge, your excuse, your in-between.
it would still be that just not in the same way as lauren squeezed your hand gently. “you okay?” the question was simple but it held everything.
you thought about the conversation waiting for you tomorrow about the hurt you would have to cause before you could step fully into something honest and about the version of yourself that had stayed small and agreeable for far too long. “i’m scared,” you admitted.
“i know.”
“i don’t want to hurt him.”
“i know.” she didn’t dismiss it, didn't minimize it but she let the weight of it exist. “but staying when your heart isn’t there hurts too,” she added quietly.
you nodded. she stepped closer, her free hand lifting to cup your jaw, thumb brushing just beneath your cheekbone. the gesture was careful, almost reverent. “i don’t need perfect,” she said. “i don’t need this to look clean or easy. i just need it to be real.”
real.
you leaned into her touch without thinking. “it is,” you whispered. the word felt different now—no longer fragile, no longer overwhelming.
steady.
you walked toward the exit together, fingers still intertwined. the sound of your footsteps echoed softly across the court. when lauren reached the light switch near the door, she paused. the gym glowed one last time beneath the fluorescents.
she looked at you and you nodded as the lights clicked off darkness settled gently over the hardwood, over the bleachers, over the place that had held your hesitation and your truth all at once.
outside, the night air was cool against your flushed skin. the campus parking lot was quiet, streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement. your phone rested silent in your pocket.
no buzzing, no pressure just space. lauren didn’t let go of your hand. “i’ll walk you to your car,” she said. you smiled faintly. “you don’t have to.”
“i want to.” the walk was slow, unhurried. not because you were stalling—but because neither of you felt the need to rush anymore. when you reached your car, you turned to face her fully. this was the part that mattered.
“tomorrow,” you said. “tomorrow,” she echoed.
“it might get messy.”
“probably.”
“you might get frustrated with me.”
“definitely.” you laughed softly. “but i’m not walking away,” you finished. lauren stepped closer, hands sliding to rest at your waist, firm and sure now. “good,” she said quietly. “because i’m not letting you.”
there was no possessiveness in it only promise. she kissed you again, deeper this time, less hesitant. not desperate—just certain. the kind of kiss that didn’t ask for forever but didn’t shy away from it either.
when you pulled back, your forehead rested against her chest for a moment. you listened to her heartbeat—steady, grounded, unwavering. “home,” you murmured without thinking. she stilled then her arms wrapped fully around you, holding you close in a way that felt protective but never confining.
“yeah,” she said softly into your hair. “you are.” you closed your eyes, breathing her in—the faint scent of practice, of laundry detergent, of something uniquely her.
the world outside would not pause for you tomorrow would come with conversations, consequences, adjustments but tonight, standing beneath quiet streetlights with her arms around you, you did not feel lost.
you felt found and as you finally pulled away, fingers brushing hers one last time before you slid into your car, you understood the final piece of it all: home was not the place you returned to out of habit.
it was the person who made you brave enough to choose differently. and for the first time in a long while, you were no longer driving toward something expected you were driving toward something true.
CW)) smut, like overly freaked out; slight size/breeding kink; strap use; humiliation kink if u squint
Thinking about making out with Lo, and reaching for the black and cream hat, putting it atop her head…
The bottom hem of her shirt was held in her mouth. She knew you loved her abs, especially the shine that they had after a rough practice.
The navy shirt fell out of her mouth after seeing the imprint of her in your tummy, the tip reaching just below your bellybutton.
“Fuck, baby. Look at how well you’re takin’ me.” She hooked your legs together, holding you by your ankles, and putting both legs on her left shoulder.
“Tryna put a baby in you.” She said, rubbing her hand up and down your thighs, kissing your ankle, eliciting a moan from you.
Lauren bites her lip with a smile, thrusting harder.
“Too big, mama? Be a big girl, c’mon.”
You shake your head,
“Mhm, not too big.” You say through a whine, reaching out to touch her. “Take it off, Lo, please.”
She gently moved your legs off her shoulder to hug her hips instead, and reached for the bottom of her shirt. Lauren’s Nike bra hugged her in a way you would if you weren’t being absolutely ruined by her.
“Not too big?” She responded.
“Why you so fucked out then, baby?” She asked, her voice soft, light, despite the position you two were in. Her large hand cupped your face. “Or do you just like when I’m splittin’ you open?”
She only earned a whine.
Your long nails lightly scratched along her toned stomach, causing her to get chills.
The ache was different this time.
“Fuck, Lau- I think I’m gonna s-“ You say, cut off by your own moan.
Lauren reached beside you, where the hat lay, and put it back on. She held her hands on her head, allowing for her hips to ruthlessly thrust into you. The sight nearly sending you over the edge.
“Lo, don’t stop.”
“Lookin’ so good for me, pretty. Takin’ it so well, fuck.” She moved a hand to your clit. You were dripping now, and Lauren’s rapid hand and hip movements caused more of a mess than there already was. “Squirt all over me baby, fuck.”
Her mouth was open, chuckling. Her whole hand moved fast and careless. She wanted you to be a mess. You were a mess.
“God, look at you.”
You reach for her wrist, her fingers still moving lightly. Lauren gave a few more good thrusts. She folded at her hips, and her damp forehead met your neck.
“We’re gonna have to change these sheets, lovey.” She commented. You hid your face in your hands to stop Lauren from speaking on the blush creeping up your face.
“Fuck, that’s so embarrassing, oh my God.”
“I’ll wash them if I got next, deal?” She asked while holding out her pinky.
The next time ur abt to rb heated rivalry posts think abt ur poor lesbian mutuals shivering all alone in the rain inside a cardboard box who could not give less of a fuck abt those men
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