synopsis 𖣂⠀bul·ly
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀/ˈbo͝olē/
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀a person who habitually seeks to harm or intimidate those whom they perceive as vulnerable.
you are the human definition of a bully, causing fights on and off the court. and one fight with a la laker puts you in a certain singer's orbit.
pairing 𖣂 idol!manon bannerman x nbaplayer!reader
content warnings 𖣂 smau + written, faceclaim is jalen duren, yn's a menace on and off the court, substance use, david enth is the laker in question, cheating (emotional + physical), eventual smut, angst, fanwars + many more!
notes 𖣂 tried something new, this layout is inspired by the ever so talented @//aarcangel
current status 𖣂 on hold!
featuring 𖣂 ot6 katz, the detroit pistons + others
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the bad boyz | dogshead
CH. 01 malice in the palace 2.0
CH. 02 fuck la
CH. 03 i'll show you what a bully is
CH. 04 can't have shit in detroit
CH. 05 are you serious?
CH. 06 david's old news
CH. 07 read between the lines
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀CH. 03 i'll show you what a bully is
THE KATZ DORM, MANON & DANIELA'S ROOM
Manon groans loudly before tossing her phone on her bed. It seemed like everything was going bad for the girl, first she had a pest of a basketball player bugging her every chance he got, now her boyfriend's on her back.
"God why do you HATE me?!" She yelled, the muffled sound causes her roommate Daniela to jump.
"What's going on with you!?" The younger asks, trying her best not to chuckle at her older roommates condition. "Which boyfriend got you stressing out now? Is it the Piston this time?" She teases.
"That man is not my boyfriend." Manon retorts before her phone's ringer interrupts her. She snatches it from her bed before looking at the caller id. Davy <3
Facetime. Great.
"Dani. Can you give me some alone time real quick?" Manon asks, making Daniela raise an eyebrow, but nevertheless leaves the room to respect her wishes.
Manon takes a deep breath before answering the facetime call. "Yes David?"
"Manon. Answer my question, bro." The man on the phone says, straight to the point.. not even saying hello to the girl.
"Bro? David quit playing with me." Manon moves to the window near her bed, leaning against the windowsill. "I don't know why that man decided to follow me after what happened with you and him!"
"You not gone tell him to leave you alone?!" He argues with a scoff. "You must like the attention or some shit."
An uncomfortable silence falls on the conversation, with Manon furrowing her eyebrows before looking down at her phone screen— meeting David's eyes.
"Are you serious?" She asked.
"I'm just saying! If I had fucking.. Kylie Jenner harassing me, you would've been on my ass! You just letting him fuck around!"
"You don't know what the fuck I've been doing, David!" Manon raises her voice before pinching the bridge of her nose. "You know what?.. don't call me about this shit anymore— don't call me PERIOD. I'm tired of you right now."
David couldn't even get another sentence in before Manon hangs up. She lets out a heavy sigh before she looks down at her phone, rubbing the side of her face before blocking David's number.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀CH. 04 can’t have shit in detroit
THE KATZ DORM, DANIELA AND MANON'S ROOM
before manon could even react, yn's contact pops up on her screen. facetime. "the fuck?!" she whisper-yelled, rushing to turn her ringer off. "this weirdo.." she mutters before staring at the caller id.
she sighs before closing her eyes, mumbling a quick prayer before answering the facetime call.
her picture shrinks as the darker toned male takes up her phone screen, his smile already pissing her off.
"there goes my wifey. what's goin' on, baby?" yn greets, making manon turn down her volume a little.
"why are you calling me!?" she asks, squinting to see yn better. it looked like he was in a locker room of sorts.
his smile stayed on his face as he moved across the locker room, sitting down. “you gave me your number, shorty. i'm just using it." he responds, "where you at anyway? I hope that nigga ain't with you."
manon rolls her eyes at the mention of david. "i'm not talking to david right now.. he's in time out."
"so that means you gone give me some attention?" yn asks, earning a scoff from the older girl. "i mean shit.. he obviously ain't doing shit right." he adds.
"I mean.. he's a good guy. he's just annoying sometimes.." manon mumbles, shifting in her bed. she was now on her stomach. "he's just really sensitive about things."
yn scoffs, "and you willing to put up with that shit?" a chuckle escapes his lips. "man.. you're better off with me for real."
"and what's so different about you, big guy?" she asks.
"why don't you let me take you out? i'll show you better than i could tell you."
"like a date?.." manon asked, making the younger nod in response. "but i'm still with david.. you know his fans are gonna be down my throat."
yn leans back against the locker, phone tilted just enough for the fluorescent lights to catch that smug little grin he’s been wearing since the call connected.
somewhere behind him, you can hear the echo of lockers slamming, a teammate yelling across the room, the low hum of post-game chaos still lingering in the air.
“man,” he starts, dragging the word out like it’s got weight to it, “fans gon’ be mad no matter what you do. you breathe wrong, they mad. you blink too slow, they mad.” he shrugs, one shoulder lifting lazily. “that ain’t got nothin’ to do with me.”
manon presses her lips together, trying not to react, but her fingers curl slightly into her sheets anyway. she hates how easily he says things like that. like consequences are just background noise.
“it has everything to do with you,” she shoots back, lowering her voice when she hears movement outside her room door. “you punched my boyfriend on national television. people are already talking.”
“good,” yn says instantly, no hesitation, no shame. “let ‘em talk.”
she blinks at him, a little thrown off by how quick that came out.
he leans forward now, elbows resting on his knees, voice dropping just a notch. “you worried about them or you worried about him?”
and there it is.
manon exhales slowly through her nose, gaze drifting off her screen for half a second before snapping back. “i’m not doing this with you.”
“you already are,” he counters, softer this time, almost amused.
her jaw tightens. “…you don’t even know me like that,” she mutters.
yn tilts his head, studying her like he’s got all the time in the world. “i know enough.”
“oh really?” she challenges, brows lifting. “and what do you know, exactly?”
he smirks, tapping the side of his phone like he’s counting off points. “i know you ain’t happy with dude right now." he trails off, shaking his head.
"i know you picked up my call instead of letting it ring. and i know you still on the phone with me instead of hanging up.”
manon opens her mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. because he’s not wrong, and that irritates her more than anything. “…you’re annoying,” she settles on, voice flat.
“yeah,” he nods easily, completely unbothered. “but i’m right.”
there’s a beat. just the faint noise of the locker room on his end and the quiet hum of the dorm on hers.
then..
“it doesn’t have to be a date,” he says, tone shifting, just a little smoother now. “call it… food. you like food, right?”
she squints at him. “duh. everybody likes food.”
“aight then,” he shrugs. “we go out, we eat. you decide if i’m worth your time. if i’m not?” he leans back again, spreading his hands. “i’ll leave you alone.”
manon narrows her eyes, clearly not believing that last part.
“you’re lying.”
he grins. “a little. but i’ll chill out.”
she huffs, dropping her chin onto her crossed arms, staring at him through her lashes. the position makes her look softer, even if her expression is anything but.
“…you’re insane,” she murmurs.
“yeah.. but you answered,” he reminds her, his smile softens at the corners. "you obviously gotta feel a spark with me."
that one lands differently.
manon goes silent for a moment, thumb absentmindedly tracing the edge of her phone case. she can feel the weight of it already, the kind of decision that doesn’t stay small.
not with him. not with who she is. and not with who she’s with.
“…one time,” she says finally, barely above a whisper. “and it’s not a date.”
yn’s smile sharpens, slow and satisfied, like he just hit a game-winner. “one time,” he echoes.
she points at the screen, suddenly stern again. “and you’re not telling anyone. no posts, no hints, no weird katseye lyrics either.”
“man whatever,” he laughs under his breath, “i only posted one katseye song.”
“that's one too much,” she mutters.
he doesn’t even deny it. “i’ll text you,” he says instead, already standing up, already moving like this is done, like it was always going to end this way. “don’t go ghost on me either.”
manon rolls her eyes, but there’s a flicker of something else there now. curiosity. maybe regret. maybe both. “goodbye, yn.”
"bye, manon.”
she hangs up before he can say anything else. the room falls quiet again. for a second, she just stares at her reflection in the black screen. “…what the hell did i just do?”
her phone lights up once more, as if to respond to her question.
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a/n: just a little something for you guys. was supposed to be more suggestive but i ain't forcing myself to write that rn. maybe i'll give ya'll something more exciting later on in the day. i guess you can say this is the start of manon emotionally cheating with yn??
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the bad boyz (the only ones getting intros)
YN (@ylln & @benwallacejr) :: 2003. ben wallace jr. 6’10 of pure hostility. allergic to smiling on the court. leads the league in technical fouls and doesn’t apologize for a single one. pistons fans call him “the second coming.” lakers fans call him worse. presses like a linebacker, dunks like he’s offended, and treats rival arenas like they owe him rent.
CADE (@ccunningham2 & @cuntingham) :: 2001. the franchise brain. ice-water veins. walks like he already knows the headline tomorrow. quiet leader energy but will absolutely talk crazy in a game thread. face of the rebuild and painfully aware of it. carries the clipboard and the chaos.
ISAIAH (@bigstu28 & @realnigga) :: 2001. detroit embodied. built like a brick warehouse. once headbutted a situation instead of de-escalating it. protective to a fault. if yn swings, he’s already there. if yn talks, he’s louder.
