#caitlin x reader

[demie90s]

hear me out,arguing with cc and "ignoring" her after,but then she pass all day needy and obssesed for just a touch,then a smut and aftercare

(i love your writting btw queen)

Totally Sorry

Caitlin Clark x Fem!Reader

MORE | NAVI

Summary: After a petty argument, you decide to ice Caitlin out. She’s losing her mind. What starts with a soft apology ends in needy, emotional smut, and even sweeter aftercare.

Genre:Angst → Fluff → Smut → Comfort

Word Count: ~ 2.5k

Warnings: 18+ smut (fingering, oral, praise kink, dom/sub undertones), tension, light possessiveness, emotional vulnerability, soft aftercare, lots of teasing and begging, reader is stubborn, Caitlin is clingy, some cursing

You’ve never fought like this. Not really. Not the real kind. Sure, y’all bicker sometimes over laundry, over where to eat, over her not charging her phone until it hits 2%.

She complains when you steal the covers. You tease her for leaving wet towels on the bed. But it’s always playful. Always short-lived. Y’all don’t do this.

You don’t ignore her. Not ever. Which is why the silence is so fucking loud.

Starts with something small. Like it always does. You said something offhand on the drive home from her game, something about her barking at the ref again, about how she never lets anything go.

You weren’t even mad. Just tired. Her energy had been off all day. And she, already wound tight from a close loss, snapped.

“You know what? Maybe stop acting like you’re above all of it just because you don’t blow up like I do.”

You looked at her so slow, so blank. “Above it?”

“Yeah, you do this thing—this passive, holier-than-thou thing—and it’s not cute.”

Damn. That hurt. But you didn’t show it. Just stared out the window, nodded once, and didn’t say another word the whole ride home.

She slammed the car door when she parked. You walked in first and never looked back.

That was yesterday. Now she’s losing her damn mind. Good.

Because you haven’t texted her since. Haven’t called. Didn’t kiss her forehead this morning when you got out of bed first. Didn’t send her that stupid TikTok you would’ve normally sent before noon. Didn’t pull her into the bathroom with you while you brushed your teeth, didn’t sit on her lap during lunch, didn’t exist around her the way you usually do.

You’re in the same house. Same space. But Caitlin’s never felt more alone. She keeps checking her phone like she didn’t leave it next to her leg two seconds ago.

She walks past your closed bedroom door five times. Pretends she’s not doing it on purpose. Pretends she’s not pausing outside of it every time.

By the time afternoon rolls around, she’s sitting on the kitchen counter looking miserable, chin in her hand like a child punished during recess. She knows it’s petty. She knows she started it. This is cruel.

“You’re seriously not gonna talk to me at all today?” she calls out, like you’re just gonna yell back from the other room with a smile. Silence.

Her mouth drops open a little. “Seriously?” Still nothing.

Now she’s standing. Now she’s following you, finally catching up when you’re in the hallway with your AirPods in, phone in your hand, looking good as hell like it’s not killing you too.

Caitlin reaches out. Grabs your wrist. You don’t stop walking. Just glance over your shoulder.

She hates that look, the unreadable one. That expressionless look you only use when you’re trying not to cry or trying not to kill somebody. She knows it’s the first one. It always is.

“Babe,” she says, softer now. Following. “Okay. Come on. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.” Still walking. Still no response.

“Hey.” She cuts in front of you this time, stands in the doorway to block your exit. “Can you just—can you please talk to me? This isn’t fair.” You fold your arms. Lean against the wall. Say nothing.

She runs both hands through her hair. “You ignoring me is actually evil. Do you know how weird it feels not hearing your voice all day?”

You raise an eyebrow like you’re finally humoring her. She takes that sliver of attention and clings to it.

“You always talk. You’re always in my space. Always touching me. I like that. I need that. So stop being mean and—”

You push off the wall. Move past her. She spins. Follows. “Oh my God, are you serious?” No answer.

“Baby. I’m dying.”

You chuckle. It slips out, real quiet, and that’s when she knows you’re softening. “That’s not funny,” she mutters.

“It is,” you say without looking back. That’s all she gets.

Until nighttime.

You’re sitting on the couch scrolling on your phone when she finally gives up on pride and walks over slow, barefoot, hoodie hanging off one shoulder, her face flushed like she just gave up fighting it.

Without a word, she climbs into your lap. You don’t fight it. She wraps her arms around your neck, head tucked under your chin like she hasn’t been craving this all day. She’s clingy. But this is new.

You don’t push her away. You just let her sit there. Let her melt into you. When her fingers trace your jaw, gentle, familiar, you finally lean into her touch.

“I hate when we fight,” she whispers. “I don’t like this version of us.” You nod.

Her voice goes smaller. “You really weren’t gonna talk to me today?”

You sigh. “You hurt my feelings.”

“I know. And I’m sorry. I was in a bad mood and I took it out on you. I don’t wanna be that person to you.”

You look at her now. Really look. “Do you mean that?”

“I’d do anything to make it up to you.” Her hand slides down your side.

She shifts in your lap, slow and careful, like she knows how fragile this truce is. Her hands stay light, just resting on your sides, fingertips grazing the edge of your hoodie. She leans in like she wants a kiss.

You turn your head.

“Still mad,” you mutter, not even looking at her. Caitlin whines, actually whines, like you just pushed her off the ledge she’s been barely hanging onto.

“I know,” she breathes, kissing the edge of your jaw instead. “I know. You should be. I was a bitch.”

You raise your eyebrows, finally turning to meet her eyes. “Oh, so now you admit it?”

“I always knew it,” she says quickly, leaning in to kiss just below your ear. “But I was too stubborn to say it.” You don’t kiss her back. Don’t even smile.

She starts trailing kisses lower. “I missed you all day.” Silence.

“I missed your voice. Your laugh. Your mouth.” Still nothing. Her lips touch your throat, her fingers sliding under your hoodie, just barely tracing skin.

“I missed it,” she says into your neck, voice a shaky little confession. “I’ll never talk to you like that again. I swear. Let me make it up to you.” You don’t stop her when she slides off your lap and sinks to her knees.

But you don’t help her either. Just sit back, legs spread slightly, phone still in your hand like she hasn’t earned your full attention yet.

She looks up at you, bottom lip between her teeth, eyes already glassy with need. Her hands are gentle as she tugs at your shorts, pausing when you don’t lift your hips right away.

“Please,” she whispers. “Let me touch you. I’m sorry, baby.” You wait a beat…then lift, just enough.

She pulls them down slow. Kisses your thighs like she’s praying. Like she’s working her way back into your good graces one inch at a time.

“I hate when you’re mad at me,” she says softly, voice muffled by your skin. “I didn’t mean it. I was just scared. I always get scared when I feel like I’m not enough for you.”

Your face softens for a second. Then she licks one long stripe up your inner thigh and you forget everything else.

She doesn’t go for it right away. She’s teasing herself more than you, dragging her mouth over everything but where you want it.

Kissing the crease of your hip. The softest parts of your skin. You feel her breathing deepen, feel her hands gripping your thighs tighter like she needs you close.

A whisper right against your clit, “Please let me make you cum.” You let out a breath. Low. Almost amused.

“You better,” you mutter. “If you want me to speak to you again.” She moans.

Tongue flat, slow pressure, licking you like a favorite flavor she hasn’t tasted in days. It’s sweet torture, gentle but relentless, her fingers gripping your thighs while she sucks softly, flicks her tongue just right.

She doesn’t stop. Doesn’t pull back. Just licks and licks like she could die here happy.

Your hand slides into her hair before you realize it, tugging once, not to guide her, but to remind her who’s in charge. She moans at the pull.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, voice sticky and desperate between licks. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’ll never talk to you like that again. I swear. Please.”You feel it building. Pressure low and tight.

But you don’t give her the satisfaction yet.

“Not enough.”

“What?” she whimpers, pausing just long enough to blink up at you.

“You’re not sorry enough.”

Caitlin lets out a shaky breath. Then lowers her mouth again, this time faster. Sloppier. Mouth open, tongue pressing harder against your clit now. She’s damn near crying into it.

You let her. Let her prove it. Let her beg through the strokes of her tongue and the tremble of her fingers when she slides one inside you, then two.

Let her apologize until your body jerks, hips stuttering up against her mouth, hand yanking her hair harder than you meant to.

“Oh my God,” she breathes. “Please cum. Please, please let me feel it.” You do. You don’t warn her. Just fall apart on her tongue, back arched, hand clamped around her head, thighs shaking.

Still licking. Still whispering, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry,” into your overstimulated cunt like it’s the only way you’ll ever forgive her.

Caitlin’s chin rests on your thigh as you come down, chest still rising, hands twitching. She’s breathless, eyes wet, face a mess. She’s just looking at you like you hung the damn moon.

You don’t say anything for a second. Just brush her hair back from her face, gentle now. Fingertips grazing her temple. Her cheek leans into the touch like she’s starving for it.

“…you forgive me?” she whispers, voice wrecked.

Your nails drag down her jaw, slow. “Get in the bed.” She nods like she expected that answer.

She crawls in after you, sliding under the blanket like a scolded dog and wrapping herself around your waist. But she’s not done. You can feel it. The way she’s shifting. The tension in her stomach. That buzz under her skin.

You pull her face up to yours.

Her lips are soft, hesitant, you kiss her this time. Open-mouthed. Lazy. Deep. Like you missed her even while she was on her knees. Her fingers dig into your hip. Her leg slots between yours, and you don’t stop her when she starts to move. You just press your forehead to hers.

“You tryna get off?” you ask, low.

“No,” she lies, breath hot. “I just wanna feel you.”

“Mmhm.”

Your thigh moves between hers, and she groans. Like her whole body is short-circuiting. You grip her jaw and kiss her again, slower now. Softer. Less performance, more you mine, you home, you safe.

You slide your leg up and over. Straddle her thigh. She gasps. Her hand flies to your waist, gripping hard.

“Holy fuck—”

“Shhh,” you whisper. “You wanna feel me?” She nods, shaky. You grind once. Real slow. Wet on wet. Soaked, sticky heat against her toned thigh. Her hand slides up your back, holding you down.

You don’t let her rush it. You move like molasses, like you’ve got all night. Every pass of your clit against her skin is deliberate. Sensual. She watches your face like it’s a goddamn movie.

Then she moves too. Matches your rhythm, thigh flexing under you, hips rolling up until the pressure is thick and perfect.

She’s breathing hard now. Voice rough. “Fuck, you feel so good like this. So warm. Don’t stop, baby. Please don’t stop.”

You kiss her again. Your hands in her hair. Her thigh right between yours. You’re rocking now, breathing each other in. The pace is slow but wet. You can hear it. Feel it everywhere.

Caitlin’s losing it. You lean into her ear, whispering, “You’re lucky I love you. Lucky I let you touch me again.”

She whimpers. “I know. I know. I love you so much.”

You grind harder. “Say it again.”

“I love you,” she gasps. “I love you. I’m yours. I swear I’m yours.”

Your hips start to stutter, hers too. She’s so close, and so are you, both chasing that same slow wave.

You cum together. Quiet but hard. Lips pressed to each other’s, thighs trembling, hips still moving through it even when it’s too much.

Later, you’re tangled up in each other. Bare. Heartbeats slow. She runs her fingers through your locs, murmuring, “I hate when we fight.”

You press a kiss to her chest. “Then don’t start ‘em.”

She grins, sleepy. “Can’t help it. I get crazy when I think about losing you.”

You look up. “You never will.”

You didn’t even have to ask. After the second round, slow, slippery, bodies locked tight and trembling into each other. Caitlin ran the bath without a word. Bubbles. Eucalyptus oil.

Music playing from her phone in the corner. She washed your back like it was sacred. Held your foot in her hand like it weighed nothing and kissed your ankle just because she could.

Clean sheets. Soft cotton.

TV low in the background and Caitlin’s hair still damp, curls tied into a loose bun.

Her hoodie is yours now, hanging off your shoulder while you sit propped up against the headboard, bowl of cookies-and-cream between your legs.

She’s got her spoon. You’ve got yours. But she keeps feeding you anyway.

“Open,” she says, holding out a scoop.

You roll your eyes. “You know I can feed myself, right?”

“Shhh. You forgave me, but I’m still earning back girlfriend privileges.”

You lean over and take the bite from her spoon. She smiles like you just gave her a gold star.

Then—kiss. Right on your cheek. No warning. You blink. Then another one.

“What are you doing?” you ask, pretending to be annoyed.

“Kissing my girl,” she mumbles against your skin. “Is that a crime?”

You huff. Try to focus on the screen. But then her hand finds your thigh under the blanket. Her fingers start tracing little shapes. Lazy. Thoughtless. And her mouth finds your cheek again. Then your jaw. Then your shoulder.

“Babe.”

“What,” she says, all smug and sleepy and in love.

“You act like you weren’t crying in my pussy an hour ago.” She pauses mid-lick of her spoon.

“Exactly why I’m kissing you now. That was life-changing.” You laugh, really laugh this time. Caitlin leans in, forehead pressed to your temple.

“I mean it though,” she says quietly, voice going soft again. “I don’t ever wanna fight like that again. Not with you.” You look over at her. She’s all flushed skin and puppy eyes and sleepy smiles.

“I mean… if the makeup sex is like that,” you tease.

“Y/n.”

You smirk. “Okay, okay. No more fights.”

She hums. Moves closer. “No more silence.”

“No more slamming doors.”

“No more accusing me of being dramatic.”

“Okay well—”

“Babe.” You laugh again. She kisses your cheek once more. And this time, you lean into it.

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[k8addict]

PARTITION — P.B N’ C.C

✝︎ synopsis — caitlin and paige gets jealous over the reader whose in a club giving herself up to anyone and everyone.

✝︎ warnings — smut, double penetration, spit, drinking mentioned, paige x cc getting freaky by themselves too

✝︎ author’s note — me and mrs. fudd collab 😋 please glaze this. @mrsfudd

Drunk, bored, and seething with annoyance, you throw yourself into the dance floor, surrendering your body to any stranger who even vaguely echoes your secret fuck buddies. The music pulses through your veins like a desperate heartbeat. As the crowd surges around you, a random girl's hand slips boldly under the hem of your skirt, fingers grazing the damp heat between your thighs. Instead of pulling away you arch into it, letting her palm press against your soaked panties, you want to be seen, need to be seen.

A pair of piercing blue eyes slice through the crowd, locking onto yours with a degrading glare, Paige Beuckers, the generational prodigy, the basketball phenom who's been fucking you raw in the backseat of her black SUV for weeks on end. She's across the floor, her toned, athletic frame sitting comfortably on a bar stool, her face covered in disgust, watching you give yourself up for a random.

You try to break the eye contact, but it's no use. Another gaze pins you in place, pretty brown eyes. Caitlin Clark, the female Steph Curry, the sharpshooter who's been devouring your pussy for months on end. Her eyes studied you, up and down. She had a hard time trying to conceal her anger, having a hard time understanding how you could be so careless.

You needed to be seen, to feel the adrenaline rush of someone’s hands on you, to feel the goosebumps that crossed your body in waves the moment their hands groped your body. You loved it when people admired you: calling you sexy, pretty, gorgeous. It always made your cheeks flush and the hair on your neck stand up. The drink in your system didn’t make it much better.

You weren’t too drunk. Just enough to buzz the annoyance off of you. You did so good in your sport, yet barely anyone praised you for it. All the headlines were too focused on some stupid scandal. Your skirt was a little too short— shiny, bright, and beautiful underneath the disco lights that made everyone glimmer in different colors.

Your back pressed against the girl’s chest. Her fingers felt so good against your soaking cunt. She dipped her hand into her drink and spread the liquor across your panties before rubbing it in. The iced liquor burned from the difference in temperature.

You probably should’ve pulled away the moment you’d seen Paige, or better yet, when you’d seen Caitlin. You didn’t care though. What’s the worst they could do to you? Fuck you? That’s what you needed. The simple memory of Caitlin’s tongue and the way she’d spread your pussy just to eat you like she’d been starved for weeks was enough to make your hips roll in a little circle against the woman’s hand. “F-fuckk..” The crown of your head pressed against the firm chest behind you, closing your eyes and trying to forget the two set of eyes glaring you down like you’re some kind of filthy slut.

Paige's eyes locked onto Caitlin across the club, catching the restless bounce of her leg and the furious flicker in her eye. She traced that stare, following it straight to you, lost in the rhythm. Confusion rested upon Paige's face as she slides up to Caitlin, her breath hot against the her ear, lips brushing skin as she whispers something unreadable. You didn’t need to be told what was said. Caitlin's body tensed, her jaw clenching, cheeks flushed.

Oblivious, you let the music take control, eyelids sealed shut as the bass coursed through your veins. The girl who you still didn’t know the name of warmth pressed against you, grinding in sync, sweaty skin sticking together, the sting of liquor lingering on your tongue.

Then, a firm hand clamped around your wrist, Caitlin. Your eyes shot open, a grin appeared on your lips, To your surprise, she wasn’t excited to see you. Her face was a storm, lips pressed thin, no trace of enjoyment. Without a sound, she dragged you through the moving bodies, her grip bruising as she hauled you off the floor and shoved you through the club doors. The cool air caused your nipples to perk, an unforgiving look on Caitlin’s face caused your spine to shiver.

You felt your heartbeat pace with Caitlin’s. Her thumb pressed so deeply into the vein of your arm that they matched each others rhythms.

“Caitttyyyy-Catttt,” You purred. Your voice was slurred, heavier on the edges when you’d said her name.

You nearly fell forward, stumbling on your thick, long heels. Your nipples hardened underneath your short and flimsy little dress. You were giggling loudly, rambling mindlessly about how much you liked Caitlin and how sexy she looked in her black pants and beige top.

“Ughhh, CC, you loookkkk sooo good.” Your voice mumbled.

Your free hand grasping at her hair, desperately trying to kiss her— your vision was blurred just enough for you to miss her lips every single time. You made contact with her nose, her cheek, her jawline. Your eyes widened when she opened the shiny door for you. Ooo, a Limo.

“Awww. You taking me somewhere special in your nice little car?” You were going to thank her briefly for being so sweet, but you could tell it wasn’t out of kindness.

Caitlin’s hazel eyes were burning into you. Fierce, dark, and cold. Her hands shoved you down into the back seat of the long black Limo. Some fans were outside with their cameras: bright lights flashing, the sound of music blasting in the limo— somehow even louder than it was in the club.

Caitlin leaned to whisper in your ear, “You thought you were cute?” She asked.

Her voice was raspy and low. Her breath slipping down the back of your neck. Her clipped nails cutting into your hips. You barely had time to push yourself up.

“Can you sit the fuck up?”

You didn’t have to look up to even know who it was. Their sweet voice now more demeaning. Cruel with a sharp edged you never heard before.

Your head spun in circles, jaw coming slack from the fact that Paige was here too… Her voice echoed in the limo, your heart skipped a few beats before dropping into the pit of your stomach the moment the car door slamming echoed behind you.

“I should’ve known one wasn’t enough for you, huh? Fucking slut…” Paige hissed out her teeth.

Her jawline clenched. You didn’t even have a second to try and defend yourself. The fear coming thick in your throat. It was hard to even swallow it down when you’d seen her blue eyes staring right at you in utter disdain like you were some sort of common whore.

You peer your eyes up at Paige, waiting for her to say anything. The awkward silence makes you want to crawl into a hole and die, until it's not silent anymore.

"It's funny you really thought you could get away with this, pathetic slut," Caitlin laughs, running her hand up your damp thigh, feeling the spot where she marked you.

Paige starts to do the same, forcing your sticky thighs apart, pinching your nipples hard through the dress she paid for.

"Driver, roll up the partition please," Paige asks before attaching her lips to your neck.

Unforgettable sensations run through your body as they both kiss and bite your neck, their fingers inching closer to your needy cunt. Caitlin slips off your panties, soaked in arousal and alcohol. She rubs your throbbing clit as Paige sticks one finger in your aching hole.

"Fucking worthless slut," Paige mutters, feeling how wet you are, noticing you dripping on the leather seats.

Caitlin's lips leave your neck first, then Paige's. Caitlin moves you to the left side, sitting her and Paige next to each other, thigh to thigh. Without hesitation, they start making out, strings of spit connecting their lips as their tongues explore each other's mouths. Subconsciously, you start to rub your exposed cunt, enjoying the show in front of you. Paige's eyes flicker up, immediately catching you.

"God, you really are a desperate whore. Look at you, touching yourself like a little bitch who can't control herself," Paige tsks, shaking her head at you.

Paige rips a clean strip off your dress, binding your wrists tight. Making sure you know who's in control.

Paige wastes no second getting back to Caitlin, unbuckling her pants with one hand, teasing her wet pussy, forcing her to grind against her fingers. Caitlin lets off soft moans as she watches Paige's perky tits bounce every time the driver hits a bump. Caitlin pulls up Paiges top sucking pretty nipples, making Paige's underwear damp with her own juices.

"Fuck Cait, you’re so good at that" Paige moans into Caitlin's ear, loud enough for you to hear.

Her hand sliding deeper into Caitlin's pants, fingering her while she grinds, begs for more.

Caitlin pulls Paige closer, hands roaming her body as she slips her fingers under Paige's shirt, pinching her nipples, making Paige gasp.

"You're so fucking hot Paige” Caitlin whispers back, glancing at you with a smirk, her free hand stroking Paige's thigh up to her soaked panties, rubbing her clit through the fabric.

They ignore you completely, lost in each other. Paige pushes Caitlin's pants down further, exposing her pussy, and starts fingering her faster, two fingers pumping in and out while Caitlin moans turn into screams. Paige slides off her pants, guiding Caitlins fingers to her wet hole. They try not to fall apart as they wreck each other. Their bodies press together, thighs rubbing, hands everywhere.

"Fuck, you're dripping for me, baby.” Paige groans, kissing down Caitlin's neck, her tongue licking her skin while her fingers curl inside her.

You squirm in your seat, wrists bound, cunt aching as you watch them touch and fuck each other, their moans filling the car, making your jealousy burn hotter with every degrading word.

The fabric around your wrists bound you too tight, rubbing your skin raw each time you tried to move your hands from the sheer desperation.

The sight of Paige's fingers disappearing inside of Caitlin's cunt over and over was enough for you to try and pathetically grind against the leather seat beneath you.

Nothing could satisfy you right now. Your body ached to feel them, to be seen by them: the both of them. Your eyes fluttered shut trying to pretend they weren't currently fucking each other so good.

The ghost of their hands on your body taunting you as your legs spread further. Folds glistening with a wet heat you've never known before. Sure, you'd gotten off with the both of them alone, but this was different. You could hear Caitlin's whining as Paige's fingertips kissed the gummy area inside of her, the way Paige became breathless and husky every time Caitlin's thumb brushed over her swollen clit while punishing that tight hole.

They kept complimenting each other. "I wanna fuck you all night." Paige rasped into Caitlin's ear while she pushed in another finger to stretch her further. That dripping pussy clenching around her hand at each quick pump. Caitlin's head was spinning, but she didn't let up.

Her fingers curling deep inside of Paige, over and over, she kept hitting that spot for her. "Yeah...?" Caitlin moaned.

You were so fucking jealous but undeniably turned on.

You hated this. You wanted their attention. You'd do anything for just a taste of them. Tears squeezed themselves out of your eyes. Your fingers trembling as the coil in your stomach tightened beyond repair.

"Please. Please fuck me." You begged to the both of them, praying just either of them would hear you over the sound of their own pleasure and give you some sort of mercy.

The limo jerked to a sudden stop, the soft taps on the partition shooting Caitlin's eyes open. She peered out the window, spotting her house right in front of them, parked perfectly. Paige scrambled around, hunting for her scattered clothes.

Once she was dressed, Caitlin slid out first, the cool night air hitting her skin and reminding her just how stuffy and sweaty the car had gotten. Paige grabbed you by the arm, yanking you out, your high heels catching on the edge of the door. You stumbled forward, nearly face planting as she shoved you up the driveway, your wrists still cuffed. By now, irritation boiled inside you, your whole existence ignored, pride shattered into nothing.

Paige shoved you onto the bed in the bedroom, the mattress bouncing under your weight. Caitlin rummaged through the closet, taking her sweet time.

Finally, Paige uncuffed your wrists, but only to rip your clothes off, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she held back from jumping you right then. Five agonizing minutes dragged by before Caitlin returned, holding two of the longest strap you'd ever laid eyes on.

You watched them strip down, peeling off their tops and pants but leaving their bras and underwear in place.

Hours of teasing had left you a dripping mess, your pussy soaked and aching, clit throbbing with need. You were hornier than ever, body screaming for any touch rough, gentle, it didn't matter as long as it filled your desperate void.

"Look at this pathetic little slut." Caitlin laughed.

Her voice low and mocking as she lay back on the bed, her cock standing straight up like a challenge.

"Been leaking like a faucet all night, haven't you?

Begging for it without even saying a word." She grabbed your hips, flipping you around to face away from her, reverse cowgirl. "Get on whore."

You whimpered, lowering yourself slowly, but she wasn't patient. Caitlin gripped your waist, nails digging in, pulling you down. Her long cock speared into your tight ass, stretching you wide open. The burn hit like fire, pain ripping through you more than any pleasure, making you cry out.

"Shut up the fuck and take it." she growled, thrusting up sharply to bury herself deeper.

"You're just a hole for us to use" Caitlin reminded.

Your body shook, already overstimulated from the endless edging in the limo, every nerve on fire. But they didn't care. Paige smirked, pulling out her phone and propping it up on the nightstand, angling it carefully to capture your flushed face, trembling body, your stuffed holes, making damn sure Caitlin's face stayed out of frame. The red light blinked on, recording every degrading second.

"Smile for the camera, dumb bitch" Paige taunted, her free hand slapping your inner thigh hard enough to leave a red mark. "Everyone's gonna see what a needy, dripping mess you are. Bet you'd love that, huh?"

She hoisted your shaking legs over her shoulders, your body folding awkwardly, ass still impaled on Caitlin's cock. Paige lined up the thick plastic member with your soaked pussy, rubbing the head against your swollen folds just to tease. Without warning, she slammed in deep, the girth splitting you open alongside Caitlin's invasion. You screamed, the double penetration overwhelming, your walls clenching around both toys as they stretched you to your limits.

They didn't give you a second to adjust. Caitlin bucked her hips up, pounding your ass relentlessly, her long cock dragging against your insides with brutal force.

"That's it, bounce on it like the eager fuckdoll you are" she degraded, slapping your ass cheeks until they stung.

Paige matched her rhythm, thrusting the plastic dildo into your pussy hard and fast, the base grinding against your clit with every plunge.

Overstimulation crashed over you like a wave. your body twitched uncontrollably, pussy squirting a little with each slam, ass burning from the friction. Every thrust sent shocks through your core, clit throbbing and pulsing, but they kept going, faster, harder.

Paige leaned in, pinching your nipples, twisting them until tears formed in your eyes. "Don't you dare cum yet, bitch. Hold it like a good little whore.”

The phone kept rolling, capturing your sobs, the wet slaps of skin on skin, your desperate pleas for more even as it hurt too good.

Caitlin laughed from below, her hands bruising your hips as she rammed deeper. "Listen to her whine. Bet no one's ever filled you like this.” Paige nodded, her thrusts turning punishing, the plastic cock pumping in and out, forcing your body to betray you with building pressure.

Your body was hot to touch. Sweat trailing down your neck, your hair damp, the entire room felt like a sauna when your body was trapped between theirs. Their thrusts were hard, rough, leaving no time for you to even moan.

Each whimper was broken into a pathetic breath, their names were on the tip of your tongue but couldn't escape your swollen lips as their cocks filled you up.

"God, you look like a fucking slut." Paige panted, her voice was low. Her chest rising and dipping as her hips slammed into yours with desire and anger.

It hurt so bad. The tearing of your walls wrapped around the both of their thick silicone. Your tits bounced with each rough pump. Caitlin's long dick filling you to the brim. Your pussy drooling a long string of translucent wetness down the molded veins.

Neither of them paused or even took a minute to ask if you were okay. Your pussy was stuffed full of Paige's cock. Her heavy tip pressing into a soft, sweet spot over and over. A scream spilled from your lips the moment you felt their dicks rub against each other through the thin wall separating them. Caitlin let out a groan, her palm slapping across your ass before pushing her hips up into yours.

"Little bitch been begging for this. What the fuck is wrong with you, huh? One wasn't enough?!" She sounded disgusted even when she fucked up into your tight ass with a filthy noise.

It felt like she was attempting to rearrange your guts with each thrust. Every roll of their hips drew another broken whine from you. Paige's hips started stuttering inside of your slick heat, the base of her strap pressed deep against her own swollen clit.

Combined with all of the pleasure from earlier and now, she was about to cum. The sound of your moaning filled the room. The loud, filthy squelching echoing- letting everyone who would watch this recording see and hear you get destroyed by two straps.

"Don't you dare fucking cum yet." Caitlin yelled at you.

Her long fingers grabbing your hair and pulling on it.

Your neck leaned back while they both kept pounding into you without any sort of mercy. Their cocks spearing inside of your dripping pussy that would clench and unclench. The coil in your gut twisting dangerously while you tried to hold yourself back. Their cocks sliding into you despite your shaky thighs.

You trembled around their straps while they both clawed at your skin. Both trying to force more of themself inside of your aching holes that fluttered and sucked them in further.

"M gonna-" Your sweet and pathetic little sounds turned into a choke sob.

Paige's hand grabbed your throat. Her thumb pressing into the vein underneath your skin. "You're gonna what? Gonna cum? Don't be such a bitch. You've took worse.” Paige spat into your mouth. Her warm saliva filling your mouth, sliding down your tongue. You had no choice but to swallow it. Her blue eyes shined with subtle satisfaction. Her thumb brushed over your cheek, "First fuckin' thing you did right tonight."

"P-Please.. can I cum then? Please." You sobbed. Tears running down your face, ruining your perfect mascara.

Your lipstick was smudged from the drool that's been running down your cheek while you'd been fucked senseless by the both of them.

They looked at each other briefly. Their eyes meeting long enough to shrug. They both pulled out of you-your stuffed holes now empty and gaping. You could feel your wetness pour on Caitlin's thighs beneath you while Paige's fingers graced your glistening folds.

'I dunno. Do you deserve it after being such a slut?" Paige asked.

Caitlin immediately followed up, "Nah. Make the bitch wait." Your eyes rolled back, so shiny with tears, your cheeks flushed.

A string of saliva dangling from your swollen lips until they both plunged their cocks deep into you. Both of your holes immediately stretching again to take them.

The burn was only a light sting now. Their hips rolling into yours continually. Skin slapping and echoing. Your wetness echoing around both of their straps. The double penetration stretched you beyond belief. Both of their long dicks buried inside of you until neither of them could even see the base of their strap. You were squirting on top of Paige's dick, making a mess on the both of them.

"Mmmmfff." A weak sound from your lips. "You learned your lesson yet?" Paige asked between loud pangs as her cock rutted into your loose pussy.

Caitlin slapped your ass hard to ensure your answer was correct. "Y-yes.. I'm sorry," You stammered on your words as their thrusts became even more demanding.

Bruises swelling on your hips from where they both had groped you. "I won't- I won't do it again... fuuckkkk." Your head dropped back as another loud cry racked through your body. Your fingers shaking badly, your spine arching each time a shock of pleasure rushed through you. "Please lemme cum.. please." You begged them. Your voice breaking apart on each syllable. Your throat was sore from crying their names. Finally, they both murmured in your ear.

"Go ahead."

Lightning cracked through your body. Hot pleasure running through your stomach as you finally felt the relief. You flooded Paige's cock with a wave of cum.

They both pumped in and out of your used holes before letting go of you. Your body flopped onto the mattress.

Your legs spreading into the sheets. You felt absolutely boneless. Your limbs were heavy yet free. Then you feel the hot tip play with your lips. You opened your eyes. You were so sated, but you could already taste yourself as your tongue licked the tip. Blue eyes burning into yours.

"Open up, baby." Paige murmured. Two long fingers, Caitlin's, pushed into your gaping cunt while Paige's cock filled your mouth punishing the back of your throat. You'd definitely not be able to talk to anyone tomorrow or even walk.

[baigepueckers]

Caitlin Clark X Reader

Eat Your Words

The apartment felt too quiet, the kind of silence that pressed down on your chest like a weight. The argument from earlier still lingered in the air like smoke that refused to clear. It had started over something that felt so small at first…Caitlin texting that she’d be “a little late” for the dinner you’d spent the afternoon preparing. Then “a little late” turned into two hours, and when you called she answered with that distracted tone she got when she was deep in film study or extra shooting drills.

“You don’t get it,” she’d said sharply when you finally snapped about feeling like an afterthought. “This is my job. This is how I make it. I can’t just clock out like everyone else.”

“And I’m not asking you to quit basketball,” you’d shot back, voice rising. “I’m asking you to show up for me sometimes. For us.”

The fight had escalated fast after that. Harsh words about priorities, about her being married to the game, about you feeling invisible. Caitlin had slammed the door on her way back to the facility, muttering something about needing space to clear her head. You hadn’t heard from her for the rest of the evening except for one short text hours later…“I’ll be home late.”

Now it was well past midnight. The dinner you’d made sat cold and untouched in the fridge. You were curled up on the couch in the living room, wearing nothing but one of her old Iowa Hawkeyes hoodies. The TV was on low, some mindless show playing that you weren’t really watching. Your phone lay face down on the coffee table, notifications silent.

The sound of keys in the lock made your stomach twist.

Caitlin pushed the door open slowly, like she was bracing herself for whatever waited inside. She was still in her Fever practice gear…navy sweats that hung on her hips and a long sleeved dry fit shirt that clung to her toned shoulders and arms. At 6’0, she filled the doorway, her long brown hair pulled back in a messy ponytail with a few loose strands framing her face. Her cheeks were still slightly flushed from the drive, and there were faint shadows under those sharp green eyes. She looked tired. Worn down in a way that went beyond physical exhaustion.

She kicked her shoes off with a soft thud. For a long moment, she just stood there, scanning the room until her gaze landed on you. The usual confident, almost cocky energy she carried everywhere was muted tonight. Her shoulders were tense, jaw tight.

You didn’t look up immediately. You kept your eyes on the TV, arms wrapped around one of the throw pillows like it could shield you from the conversation you both knew was coming.

Caitlin cleared her throat. “Hey.”

Her voice was quieter than normal, that familiar midwestern accent a little rough around the edges from the long day.

You hummed in response, still not meeting her eyes.

She sighed heavily, running a hand through her ponytail and tugging the hair tie out. Dark waves spilled over her shoulders as she crossed the living room in a few long strides. She stopped a few feet away from the couch, towering over you, but she didn’t sit down right away. Instead, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, athletic legs planted wide like she was guarding someone on the court.

“Look… I know you’re still mad,” she started, rubbing the back of her neck. “And you’ve got every right to be. I fucked up tonight. Big time.”

You finally glanced up at her. Caitlin’s expression was raw…frustration aimed mostly at herself, a flicker of worry creasing her brow. This wasn’t the Caitlin Clark who dropped logo threes with a smirk or trash talked opponents without breaking a sweat. Right now she looked vulnerable in a way she rarely let anyone see.

“I got caught up in extra film with the coaches,” she continued, voice low and careful. “Then I stayed to get up some extra shots because I missed a couple easy ones in practice today. I told myself it’d only be twenty minutes… and then it was two hours. I should’ve called. I should’ve come home when I said I would.” She took a small step closer, her green eyes searching your face. “I hate that I made you feel like you don’t matter. Because you do. You matter more than any game, any practice, any stupid drill. I just… I suck at balancing it sometimes. The pressure out there is insane, and I take it out on the wrong people. On you.”

The apology hung between you, sincere and a little clumsy. Caitlin wasn’t great with words when emotions ran this high, but she was trying.

She hesitated, then slowly lowered herself to one knee in front of the sectional so she was closer to your eye level. One of her large, calloused hands reached out and gently rested on your knee over the soft fabric of the hoodie. Her thumb started tracing slow, soothing circles.

“I missed you all night,” she admitted softly. “Even when I was being an idiot and staying late, I kept thinking about how I should be here with you instead. Eating that dinner you made. Listening to you talk about your day. Just… being with you.”

The knot in your chest started to loosen, but you still didn’t speak right away.

Caitlin’s hand squeezed your knee gently. “Can I sit with you?” she asked, almost hesitant. “Or… can I touch you? I don’t want to push if you’re not ready.”

You nodded once, the smallest movement.

That seemed to be all the permission she needed.

In one smooth, effortless motion, Caitlin rose to her feet and scooped you up off the couch. Her strong arms wrapped around your thighs and back as she lifted you against her chest like you weighed nothing. You let out a surprised breath, instinctively grabbing onto her shoulders. Her body was still warm from practice, solid muscle shifting under your hands, the faint scent of her sweat mixed with the clean smell of her body wash clinging to her skin.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured again, lips brushing against your temple as she carried you down the short hallway toward the bedroom. Her voice was low and rough with regret. “I hate fighting with you. Especially when it’s my fault. I don’t ever want you to feel invisible. Not with me.”

She pushed the bedroom door open with her shoulder and carried you inside, the only light coming from the bedside lamp you’d left on. The big bed looked inviting, sheets still rumpled from the morning. Caitlin laid you down gently in the center of the mattress, her long frame hovering over you for a moment as she braced herself on her forearms.

For a heartbeat, she just looked at you…green eyes dark with a mixture of remorse and building hunger. Then she leaned down, capturing your lips in a slow, careful kiss. It started soft, almost tentative like she was afraid you might pull away. When you didn’t, when you kissed her back the kiss deepened. Her tongue traced the seam of your lips, seeking entrance and you granted it. The taste of her…mint from the gum she’d probably chewed on the drive home, mixed with the lingering salt of her skin.

Caitlin’s hand slid under the oversized hoodie, warm palm gliding up your bare side, calloused fingertips grazing your ribs and the underside of your breast. She pulled back just enough to speak against your mouth, voice husky. “Tell me if you want me to stop. But god… I really want to make this right. I want to show you how much you mean to me.”

You answered by pulling her closer, fingers threading into her messy hair.

That was all the encouragement she needed.

Caitlin tugged the hoodie up and over your head, tossing it aside. Her gaze raked over your now bare upper body, darkening with clear want.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” she breathed, leaning down to press open mouthed kisses along your collarbone. “Even when you’re mad at me… still the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

She kissed lower, sucking lightly at the sensitive skin of your neck, then harder…deliberately leaving a mark that would be visible tomorrow. “Gonna make it up to you tonight,” she promised, voice vibrating against your throat. “Gonna take my time. Make you feel so good you forget we were ever fighting.”

Her hands continued their movements, peeling away the rest of your clothes with practiced movements until you were completely bare beneath her. Only then did she sit back on her heels and strip off her own shirt and sports bra, revealing her toned athletic body…lean muscle carved from years of training, abs flexing with each breath, small breasts with nipples already tight from arousal and the cool air of the room.

You reached for her, but Caitlin gently caught your wrists, pinning them above your head with one large hand. Her smirk finally made a tentative reappearance, that signature cocky glint returning to her green eyes. “Not yet,” she murmured. “Let me take care of you first, baby. You were right to be pissed. Now let me prove how sorry I am.”

She released your wrists only to trail kisses down your body…slow, reverent presses of her lips to your sternum, your stomach, the tops of your thighs. When she finally settled between your legs, spreading them wide with strong hands, she looked up at you through her lashes, green eyes locked intently on yours.

“Keep your eyes on me,” she said softly, the same commanding tone she used when she was running the offense on the court. “I want to see every fucking second of you falling apart.”

Then her mouth was on you.

The first long, slow lick dragged from your entrance all the way up to your clit, hot and wet and filthy. Caitlin groaned loudly against your pussy the second she tasted you, the sound vibrating straight through your core. “Shit, baby… you’re dripping for me already. Such a messy little pussy even when you’re mad at me.”

She dove in deeper, tongue flat and broad as she licked through your folds like she was starving. Two long fingers pushed inside you without warning, stretching you open with a wet, obscene sound. She curled them instantly, stroking that spongy spot inside you with ruthless precision while her lips wrapped around your swollen clit and sucked hard.

You cried out, hips jerking, but her free hand pinned your lower stomach down, holding you exactly where she wanted you. “That’s it, take my fingers,” she growled between messy licks, voice thick and filthy. “Gonna fuck this tight pussy until you’re shaking. Gonna make you cum so hard you forget every angry word I said earlier.”

Her fingers pumped faster, curling…the slick sounds of her thrusting mixing with the wet noises of her mouth devouring you. She alternated between long, slow drags of her tongue and quick, relentless flicks over your clit…never giving you a chance to catch your breath. Every time your walls clenched around her fingers she moaned, the vibration making your thighs tremble.

“Look at me,” she demanded, green eyes blazing up at you as she sucked your clit into her mouth again, hollowing her cheeks. “Watch me eat this pretty pussy like it’s mine. Because it is. Every fucking inch of you is mine.”

You were soaked, her chin and lips shiny with your arousal as she worked you relentlessly. She added a third finger, stretching you fuller…the burn so good it made your back arch off the bed. Caitlin fucked you deeper, harder, her tongue never stopping its assault on your clit while her fingers curled and rubbed that perfect spot over and over.

“Cum for me, baby,” she rasped, voice rough.

“Flood my mouth. Let me taste how sorry you want me to be. I want to feel this greedy cunt squeezing my fingers when you break.”

The orgasm slammed into you violently. Your thighs clamped around her head, a broken, loud moan of her name tearing from your throat as your walls pulsed and gushed around her fingers.

Caitlin didn’t slow down…she kept fucking you through it, tongue flicking furiously, drawing out every wave until you were whimpering, oversensitive, hips twitching uncontrollably.

Only when you were gasping and trying to twist away did she finally ease her fingers out, replacing them with one last slow, soothing lick before she crawled back up your body. She kissed you deeply, shoving her tongue into your mouth so you could taste how filthy you were on her. “Good fucking girl,” she praised, voice husky and satisfied, nipping at your bottom lip. “So perfect for me. Even after I’ve been an idiot.”

You were still riding the aftershocks, body trembling, when you pushed at her shoulders, flipping your positions with a surge of energy. Caitlin let you, a surprised laugh escaping her as her back hit the mattress.

“My turn,” you said, voice breathy but determined.

“Time to remind you exactly who you come home to.”

Her smirk widened, hands settling possessively on your waist as she looked up at you with dark, hungry green eyes. “Yeah? Then prove it, baby. Show me.”

[sincerestlove]

Velvet Box

seeing cait playing golf today really got me yearning - i hope you enjoy this extremely indulgent fic :)

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Female Reader

Warnings: SMUT (very intimate tho); soft dom!cait, female sub!reader; oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving); cait loves reader’s breasts.

MINORS DNI; MEN DNI.

wind nips at your cheeks, singeing the skin red. around you, waves lick against the stone-lined shore, moonlight flickering across the darkness. caitlin had whisked you away for a week, renting a private lake house for the two of you - all high ceilings, marble countertops, electric fireplaces, fridge and pantry stocked to the brim with your favorite foods and drinks. as your girlfriend, she promised to spoil you for the rest of your life, after all.

warm hands drape a heavy blanket along your shoulders, your shivering frame relaxing. with a glance up, you see the suspected culprit - wine glass in hand, blinding grin, soft hazel eyes warmed by the licking flames of the bonfire. her usually hardened edges are softened by the shared drinks during dinner, shoulders relaxed and posture loose.

“you were shivering.” she murmured, leaning down to press her lips to your temple. sweet, gentle.

you smile back at her. “thanks, baby.” she squeezes your shoulder, before crowding closer to you on the cushioned bench in an attempt to share body heat. it works, as usual, cuddling into the familiar comfort. your head naturally falls onto her shoulder, relishing in the feeling of her.

you don’t notice, but her eyes never leave you. and they were filled to the brim with adoration.

~~~

later that night, back in your shared room, both of you were freshly showered and moisturized - skincare done, her hair brushed. caitlin went first, naturally, being the faster of you two. though, you nearly jumped her bones when she left the bathroom - steam curling out, mirror fogged, towel slung around her neck, damp hair clinging to her broad shoulders. now, the brunette lounged, fully stretched out in the king sized bed, socked feet nearly hanging off the edge. one of her knees bent, a hand tucked underneath her head, the other scrolling idly on her phone. black sweatpants hung low on her hips, tank top clinging to her toned upper body, muscled arms on full display.

“you wearing that is so not fair.” you muttered, clambering into the bed beside her, throwing a leg over her thigh. you had decided on a cute pajama set, one that she loved and knew very well. she tugged the blanket along your calves, setting her phone on the nightstand.

“me? while you’re wearing these shorts?” her hand slid along the skin of your lower back, still warm from the shower, exposed by the rising of your shirt. blunt nails scratched in a slow, steady pattern, before slipping higher. you preened at the touch, nudging your face into the space between her neck and shoulder. the smell of her body wash filled your senses, comforting and familiar. “you good?” she asked, lips pressed into the top of your head.

you nod and scoot impossibly closer, tugging the blanket higher, up to both of your knees. “so good. i’m with you.” you bat your eyes at her, playful but honest. she smiles, really smiles, like she always does around you. the corners of her eyes crinkle, shining in the golden light of the bedside lamp.

she tugs you closer, until you’re fully settled along her hips. her sweatpants sit even lower now, the bare skin of her hipbones begging to be touched. you grin, hands resting on her collarbone, as you adjust comfortably on top of her. “you’re beautiful.” she murmurs, looking up at you, softness blooming in her eyes. you coo, moving to rest your palms on her warming cheeks. as she leans into the touch, you lean down and kiss her - gentle, slow, until her hands begin to wander. up and down your thighs, fingertips digging into the soft, plush skin.

you sigh into her mouth, your own hands beginning to move. across her shoulders, along the expanse of her back, muscles rippling in response to your touch. she sits up, fully resting against the headboard, hands pulling you flush to her front. “want you.” she whispers, voice low and gravely with need, hands slipping under your shirt. her thumbs tease the skin below your breasts, a shiver rushing down your spine.

“want you too.” you breathe out against her lips, swollen and slick. it’s getting increasingly harder to ignore the persistent ache between your thighs, body shifting in an attempt to relieve it.

she hums. “lift your arms, baby. wanna see you.” you do as she asks, reluctantly breaking apart to tug the fabric over your head and onto the floor. her hands immediately slide to your breasts, pausing just beneath. “can i touch you? please?” she rests her chin on your abdomen to look up at you again, hazel eyes pretty and glazed over.

you nod, “yeah,” brushing a hand through her hair, resting it on her nape. she leans forward then, warm mouth taking a perky nipple. the feeling makes you sigh, hand tightening in her soft locks.

she continues like that for a while, alternating - mouth, teeth, fingers, until your nipples are sore and your arousal leaks through your shorts. she can feel it, you know she can. “cait…” you whine, wanting friction. your head is tilted back toward the ceiling, eyes slipping shut. the fan blows gentle wind across your heated skin.

she shakes her head. “shh, baby. ‘m not done.” her big hands grip your hips, one of her legs moving to slot between your thighs. you gasp, palms shooting out to grab at her shoulders. deft fingers push your shorts to the side, dripping pussy making contact with her strong, pant-covered thigh. her hands grip your hips tighter, beginning to drag you back and forth.

“fuck,” you moan brokenly, your clit moving achingly slow along the fabric and muscle. heat floods your stomach, tingling all the way to your fingertips and toes.

“that’s it, my pretty girl.” caitlin continues to suck, nip and pull on your overly sensitive nipples, as she controls the devastatingly slow pace of your hips. it doesn’t take long for the coil to tighten, threatening to snap any second.

you’re teetering on the edge, when she stops. she squeezes to halt your movement, lips pulling away from your breasts with a soft pop. you whine at the loss, trying but failing to continue the slow grind of your hips. she shushes you again, hands flattening across the bare skin of your back to hold you up. “breathe. i got you.” she presses kisses up your sternum, along your throat, before meeting your lips again.

“please.” you whimper, resting your hands on top of hers, moving one between your thighs. she groans into your mouth, fingers sliding through your dripping folds. she brushes your clit, once, enough to make your hips jerk. she huffs out a laugh, doing it again, teasing.

“tell me what you want.”

you whine, again, desperate to get her inside you. she tuts, moving her hand away.

“tell me.”

“want your fingers, please.”

she moves her hand back, fingers skimming the crease of your thighs, not close enough to where you want them.

“tell me again.”

“please, cait, please. fuck, need you so bad.” it’s close to begging, and you feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes. it’s enough to satisfy her.

she taps your legs, before easily flipping your positions, guiding your head to rest on a pillow. she settles between your spread legs, all soft muscle, her own legs keeping them open. her eyes meet yours again, pupils blown out. “deep breath.” she sinks two fingers in, smooth, slow, and deep. the stretch makes you moan, nails digging in to her flexing forearm. she crowds you then, long hair falling around you like a curtain, lips grazing the flushed skin of your face. she studies you - eyes squeezed shut, mouth agape, brows scrunched together. to her, you’re a masterpiece of her own creation.

she moves. in and out, slow, pressing on the spot that makes you see stars. your clit throbs, desperate for stimulation. your hips twitch. “please!” you cry out, hands fumbling to touch between your legs. she pulls out, swatting them away.

“uh-uh, you don’t get to touch yourself.” she shuffles your hands above your head, between the extra pillows. “keep them there, or i’ll stop.”

she kisses you again, tongue gliding over your lips, tasting your need. “you want my mouth, baby?”

you nod, wiggling your hips. she laughs, a quiet thing, kissing you once more. hands push your legs apart further, before she slinks down between them, your gazes locked.

“lift your hips.” you comply, her fingers digging in to the band and tugging them off, joining your shirt on the floor. she breathes in deeply at the sight of you - swollen, soaked, clit begging to be touched, skin smeared with your arousal. your scent makes her drool. “look at you. so fucking pretty.” her arms loop underneath your shaking thighs, holding you open for her.

your eyes meet again. hers are overflowing with desire for you. she rests her cheek on your thigh, waiting, looking. “ready?” you nod, running a hand through her hair. she smiles, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to your palm, before moving.

she licks a long, firm stripe up to your clit, finally, wrapping her lips around it. you nearly scream, already sensitive, thrusting your hips closer to her eager mouth. your head falls back onto the pillow with a gentle thud. she stops.

“eyes on me.”

you huff at the order, lifting your head and cracking your eyes open. she’s looking, again. lips glistening, slick with your arousal. “don’t look away.” she goes back to work, tonguing through your folds - pressing, sucking in all of the right spots, your body an instrument she knows like the back of her hand.

your fingers fist into the pillows, head swimming with pleasure. it’s harder to keep your eyes open, wanting nothing more than to lay back and relish in the feeling of her. but you know better. and she knows you do.

her hands slide up. up your thighs, up your stomach. they pause at your breasts, still sensitive from before. her fingers, long, warm, take your nipples again, gently tugging. not to hurt, but enough to make you cry out. loudly.

her mouth works faster now. she sucks on your clit when she tugs on your nipples. it’s starting to get too much - heat bubbles, hips wiggling, twitching, wanting to move away and closer all at once.

“fuck, cait…” you moan, loud. “let me come, c-can’t hold it.” big, hot tears roll down your cheeks. you feel it, it’s close. she does too.

“say please.”

it’s a little mean. she feels you clench around nothing and smirks against you, slowing her pace.

“no, no! please, let me come!” you do beg now, hands coming to fist into her hair instead. she exhales out a laugh, the hot air making you shiver. gently, she untangles your fingers from her, choosing to lace her own between them, resting on your thighs. glancing up, the sight of you makes her own clit throb.

you look a mess. a beautiful one. skin shiny, body trembling, cheeks wet.

she tightens her fingers around yours, squeezing. she pauses for a moment, despite your whines. “you can come whenever you want. lay back and relax, i got you.”

you nearly sob as she begins again. all gas, no breaks. her tongue moves fast, unrelenting. your thighs clench around her ears, hips meeting each movement. your hands squeeze hers, tight - she smiles, but you don’t feel it. your head is floaty, dizzy, jaw dropped open as you come. your tongue feels heavy, moaning out her name incoherently.

she slips one hand away from yours, stuffing two fingers inside of you. it’s slow, you feel so full, and you scream. it stings your throat, hurtling your orgasm into another one. you’re clenching down on her, hard - she can barely move her fingers but she still does, scraping at your g-spot with precision.

you squirt. abdomen clenched, body taut, rigid. caitlin moans into you, the vibration making you cry, as she continues moving her tongue, her mouth, her lips.

she doesn’t stop.

not until you can’t feel your fingertips or your toes, not until your voice is hoarse, not until you’re crying and begging, beautifully spent and more than satisfied.

after she’s had her fill, she pulls away. her face is covered in you, eyes glazed over, hair mused and tangled. she looks at you, smile beaming, coming down to kiss you. just once. soft, slow, tasting yourself on her tongue.

she pulls you into her arms, carefully. the blanket is pulled to your shoulders, her hands resting your head against her chest.

her lips press against your forehead, nails scratching lightly up and down your skin.

she speaks after a long moment. “you good?”

you hum, eyes already slipping shut. “mhm. ‘m with you.”

your words, repeated from earlier, make her heart melt. you don’t see it, again, but she smiles. just for you. soft, sweet, yours.

a velvet box sits in the nightstand. on the inside, your initials engraved, and a beautiful ring, in your size and favorite style, waiting to sit prettily on your finger.

yeah, she’s definitely proposing tomorrow.

[ilovecowboysandpink]

‎₊˚ 𓂃˖ quiet until it wasn’t 𝜗𝜚 ｡˚

after a quick hello on stream turns into an unexpected wife reveal, caitlin doesn’t realize what she’s done until both their phones start lighting up. back in the corner of the party, her wife just laughs “it’s about time.”

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

warnings: caitlin might be a tad bit drunk, coming out kinda?! and thats about it

word count: 890 words

authors note: honestly i wipped this up as fast as i could, rushly proof read so sorry for any mistakes! i will probably come back and edit this 😭 based on this tiktok!

the thing is, no one really notices at first.

caitlin walks into the frame like she always does, shoulders back, soft smile, dressed in black like she could disappear into the night if she wanted to. her hand rests easily on courtney's arm as she leans in toward the camera, her voice light and unbothered.

“i’ve been watching this all day,” she says, and she’s already laughing. “my wife and i were literally sitting in the hotel, like, fully tuned in.”

courtney just blinks. the camera jolts slightly. “deadass?” she grins.

caitlin nods, still smiling. “yeah. like, all day. we watched everything.”

and that’s it. she waves to the stream, the moment shifts, and then she’s gone, blinking under the flash of someone else’s camera now, caught in conversation, caught in motion. the comment section lags just a little behind. so does she.

somewhere across the room, her wife, quiet, warm, always half-glowing in these soft-lit spaces, is standing in a loose circle of WAGs. her drink’s mostly ice now, watered down and sweet. they’re talking about shoes or nail colors or maybe flights to phoenix next week. she’s listening. smiling. nodding politely.

until her phone buzzes once. then twice. then a third time in quick succession.

and when she lifts it when she sees caitlin’s name suddenly everywhere, in the stream caption, in the clips already flooding her dms, she doesn’t panic. she doesn’t freeze or excuse herself or look across the room in search of cover.

instead, she turns slightly, just enough to see caitlin weaving her way back toward her with that face, one she only really shows when she knows she’s said something she wasn’t supposed to, but doesn’t regret it.

“hey,” caitlin says, almost sheepishly. “so… um.”

her wife doesn’t let her finish.

“it’s fine,” she says, eyes flicking toward the soft glow of both their phones lighting up again. “honestly? it’s about time.”

caitlin exhales. something between a breath and a laugh. her hand reaches instinctively for hers, barely a touch, just fingers brushing against the back of her palm, but it’s grounding. grateful. a little relieved.

“i didn’t mean to,” she murmurs.

“i know.”

“i was just, i forgot the stream was live. i wasn’t really thinking, and courtney was there, and—”

“cait.”

she looks up.

“we’ve been married for almost two years now,” her wife says, voice low, just for her. “you’ve been carrying this secret like it’s made of glass.”

caitlin’s quiet for a second. then another. her other hand finds her waist, thumb grazing over the side of her dress like a habit she’s never broken.

“i liked it being ours,” she says softly.

her wife smiles, something fond curling at the corners of her mouth. “it’s still ours. even now.”

and maybe that’s the truth that matters most. that it was never about hiding, not really. people respected caitlin’s space. her privacy. her need to hold certain things close. and she did. she kept their marriage in the softest pocket of her world, safe from questions and headlines and all the noise.

but she still looked for her in every room. still reached for her first when something was funny or heartbreaking or just too much to hold alone. still sent photos of her coffee in the morning, still walked into interviews with her wedding ring tucked into her bra strap, still texted i miss you before tipoff even if they’d only been apart for an hour.

and now? now the phones won’t stop buzzing. someone’s already posted the clip to twitter. there’s a screenshot from the stream where her hand is blurred mid-wave and the caption reads: my wife and i were literally sitting in the hotel, fully tuned in. it’s been reposted three thousand times in ten minutes.

caitlin sees it on her screen. she sighs.

“do you think people will care?”

her wife shrugs gently. “some will.”

“in a good way or a bad way?”

“depends who they are.”

caitlin blinks down at the screen again, then lets it dim. her shoulders ease a little.

“i guess it had to happen at some point,” she says.

“mmhm.”

“and i’m not, i’m not mad that it happened.”

“i know.”

“i just wish i’d… i don’t know. said it better.”

her wife turns to her fully now, eyes soft. “you said it the most caitlin way possible. accidentally. casually. on camera.”

caitlin groans. “that doesn’t make me feel better.”

but she’s laughing now. and her wife’s laughing too, quietly, like it’s something they’ll remember for years, the kind of reveal you can’t plan for, the kind that feels more like a ripple than an explosion.

around them, the party keeps going. no one stares. no one points. just a few glances, a few subtle smiles passed between teammates who’ve known for a while and are only surprised it took this long to go public.

caitlin leans in, lips brushing the side of her wife’s ear. “so… do we just act normal now?”

“you’ve never acted normal a day in your life.”

caitlin grins. “harsh.”

“true.”

and she kisses her, just lightly, just once, just enough to make her wife flush under the warm party lights, and then they turn back toward the crowd, side by side. no longer invisible. no longer a secret. just together. still theirs.

[lalaluna20]

My Girl

content: fluff, thinking about high school comphet caitlin in a homoerotic friendship.

⋆˚✿˖° comphet caitlin who isn’t a clingy person, is a complete 180 with you. the second she’s with you, she clings to you. like always hugging you, holding your hand, and cuddling you. it’s to the point that her parents and brothers compare her to bella with how clingy she is with you.

⋆˚✿˖° comphet caitlin who literally misses you so much that she wants to fly you out on every trip and even to her U17 tournaments. she was able to bring you on family vacations, but wasn’t as successful for the tournaments. mostly because both of you were broke and neither of your parents were comfortable with both their daughters being half way across the world. at least caitlin was under U17 care.

⋆˚✿˖° comphet caitlin, who only goes where you go. party and you’re going? she’s there, friend group hangout? she’s driving you, any of your events, yea she’s there before it starts so she can get photos with you.

⋆˚✿˖° comphet caitlin who always has to be with you. like she’s actually switched her schedule before just to be in the same class as you. oh and work time she’s always next to. she doesn’t care if she has to sit on the floor, she’s happy as long as she’s with you.

⋆˚✿˖° comphet caitlin who makes it clear that you’re her best friend, her other half, her “platonic” soulmate. no one and nothing can replace you.

⋆˚✿˖° comphet caitlin who somehow convinced you into a marriage pact. “if we’re both 24 and unmarried, then we get married.” at the time 24 felt so long to be unmarried, but now you realize its super young. plus caitlin is serious about that pact.

⋆˚✿˖° comphet caitlin, who has literally turned down multiple dates because of you. if she got asked out to hoco or prom and you didn’t she’ll literally refuse and go with you. even if both of you had dates, she’d steal you for the majority of the night.

⋆˚✿˖° comphet caitlin who has biweekly sleepovers and weekly hang outs with you. she just needs to spend all her time with you

⋆˚✿˖° comphet caitlin who will spend most movie marathons by cuddling you and peppering your face with kisses. even kisses at the corner of your lips. although she says they don’t count as real kisses, they count to her.

⋆˚✿˖° comphet caitlin, who was the first person who you came out to. she didn’t make you feel weird or ask you “am i your crush;” she just held you tight, told you she’s proud of you and press a kiss to your head.

internally caitlin felt some sort of relief, but she couldn’t place from where. but at the same time anxiety grew, she didn’t want to share you with anyone. but now she couldn’t help but worry that one of your other friends is taking your attention and enjoyment. but that’s a story for another time.

luna’s notes

guys! i just finished finals!! i have the worst grades i’ve ever had, but its just one tri over the 12 tries i’ll have in high school. Anyways i’ve had this idea in my head all weekend so now that i’m done with finals i can finally write. anyways, i also want to make a jealous version but i want to see how you guys like these headcanons first.

Anyways! I hope you enjoyed- Love Luna

[ccaits]

need need need cait x reader are married, and cait has been away for awhile so when they reunite it’s just feral pent up intimate smutttt!!!!! dom!cait! spit! strap! praise! aftercare! 🫣🫣🫣

⌗ mdni ⸝⸝ ꫂ᭪݁ smut ⋮ thirty one days caitlin clark x reader no ai ! written by me

ℳarrying a superstar is not for the weak.

It is empty grocery carts and quiet hallways. It is the echo of a big, beautiful house that only feels full when she is in it. A month without your wife means sleeping on her side of the bed just to feel something familiar, folding laundry that still smells like her. Cooking for one feels a bit sad, portions shrink. Leftovers last too long. Sometimes you still buy her favorites without thinking, only realizing when you get home and unpack them into a fridge that stays too full for one person. The house carries her absence differently depending on the time of day. Mornings are the hardest, when sunlight pours in and there is no her beside you, no sleepy voice and no warm arms around you. Evenings stretch endlessly. You move from room to room, turning lamps on just to feel less alone, letting the glow fill spaces she usually fills with laughter and presence. It empties you.

It is setting two plates down before catching yourself. It is knowing exactly where she would be sitting if she were here. It’s her side of the closet being completely untouched. The house is still beautiful, still warm, but it feels like it’s waiting too. It knows she belongs here just as much as you do, not having seen her in 31 days.

Tonight you are curled up under soft blankets at the edge of the bed, TV glowing on the wall, Indiana Fever game rerunning for the third time. It’s her game from yesterday, Caitlin on the court, jaw forever clenched, ponytail swinging, draining shots like it’s nothing. The commentators keep losing their minds. You keep smiling and doing your own silly commentary whenever she hits a deep three, or does one of those crazy half court assists. Your wife looks unfairly good doing what she does best.

Beside the TV there is a framed photo on the wall across from the bed, the two of you are laughing in it, not posed. Her suit jacket is slung over one shoulder, your dress wrinkled at the hem from dancing too hard. that photo always makes you smile. You both had worn dresses for the ceremony, dolled up, but after it was over, she changed into something more comfortable, a cream tailored suit - what she’s wearing in the photo. That was one of the most joyous days of both your lives.

You exhale and settle deeper into the bed, eyes back on the screen, heart somewhere far away on a court in Indiana.

at first, it’s so faint you almost convince yourself it is nothing. just the house settling. the heater clicking on? Something imagined because you want it too badly.

But it happens again.

it’s the sweetest noise ever, a symphony to your ears, a dopamine rush, a serotonin hit, your heart feels so unequivocally full the muscles in your face bloom into a smile.

The unmistakable sound of a lock turning downstairs.

Your breath catches, the TV keeps playing but youre already sitting up. Heart pounding. Every part of you goes still. You know that sound. Youve heard it a thousand times; Late nights or early mornings, afternoons and evenings. Her coming home exactly like this.

You don’t bother putting on slippers, or putting lounge shorts over your underwear, already moving, hand brushing the railing as you take the stairs two at a time. The light by the front door flicks on, and there she is.

Caitlin stands just inside the doorway with a suitcase in one hand, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder, a small gift bag dangling from her fingers. Headphones rest around her neck. She looks tired in that gorgeous way that only comes from winning too much. When her eyes lift and land on you, everything softens. She blinks, clearly not expecting you to be there so fast. The grin that spreads across her face is familiar and devastating.

“Oh,” she says, dumbfounded. Then her face completely gives her away. “You’re awake.”

You crash into her, arms around her neck, face buried against her shoulder, breathing her in like youd been holding your breath for a month straight. She drops everything just to hold you, hands firm on your back, claiming. A kiss presses into your hair. Then your temple. Then your mouth, agonizingly sweet and slow at first

It lasts about two seconds before it turns desperately hungry, all the restraint of weeks snapping at once

Her forehead rests against yours, her thumb tilts your chin up. You two just smile.

Then you’re off.

She guides you upstairs without letting go, fingers laced with yours, every step buzzing with the heat of what you knows about to happen. The bedroom door closes behind you, The TV is on but forgotten. The world is forgotten. There is only the way her hands frame your face, the way she looks at you like you’re her home and hunger all at once

You stumble backward toward the bed, laughing quietly into her kiss. She follows without breaking contact, crowding you gently but deliberately until the backs of your knees hit the mattress. You go down easily, pulling her with you, hands in her hair, tugging just enough to make her exhale sharply against your mouth.

“God,” she murmurs, barely pulling back, forehead resting against yours. “You have no idea how much I fucking missed you”

“Show me,” you moan against her lips. “I want you to show me.”

She’s still kissing you, deeper this time, slower but heavier, making up for lost time. The bed dips beneath her weight as she settles over you, one hand braced beside your head, the other sliding up your side, possessively, gripping hard enough to burst a blood vessel.

Her fingers trace the curve of your hip, then rubs your clit through your panties with an aching deliberate slowness. She breaks the kiss to watch your face, her long face hovering close, milky skin, dark brown hair falling forward to frame her un-recreate-able beautiful sharp features. Those lusty eyes lock on yours, unblinking, savoring every flicker of need in your expression

You missed her hands. it feels so good that you close your legs around her hand and start grinding up and down too impatient for her intentionally slow pace.

She pulls you up to stand and gets on her knees. She looks up at you, and she pulls your underwear down before nuzzling at your clit with her nose and tongue never breaking eye contact. You needed this too much. her hands gripping the soft flesh to keep you open for her.

Caitlin leans in, her breath hot against your core, but she pauses, staring up at you with those piercing eyes, dark brown strands brushing her forehead. “Look at me while I eat this pretty pussy,” she demands, face set in fierce determination, “Don’t close your eyes. Watch your wife make you cum.” she says lowly.

Her tongue flicks out, flat and broad, licking a messy and spitty stripe from your entrance to your clit. You gasp, hips jerking, and she pushes you down against the bed, pinning you with her forearms across your thighs. She dives in ferally, mouth latching onto your folds, sucking hard as her tongue thrusts inside you, fucking deep and relentless.

The wet sounds fill the room, Caitlin’s lips smacking against your slick skin. She pulls back just enough to spit on your clit, rubbing in the glob with her nose and lips before her open mouth returns, tongue circling the swollen nub with brutal precision.

“That is it, baby girl. Grind on my face.” She sucks your clit between her lips, teeth grazing lightly, then plunges her tongue back inside, curling it to hit that spot that makes your toes curl. Her free hand slides up to pinch your nipple, twisting just hard enough to mix pain with the building pleasure. “You’re so hot.”

You moan, staring down at her, the intensity of her gaze pushing you higher. She eats you like a starving woman, tongue lashing, lips sucking, nose bumping your clit as she buries her face deeper. “Cum for me, sweetie,” she orders, voice muffled but commanding. The vibrations feel like they may send you over the edge along with her eyes on you. “Drench my mouth, show me how bad you missed this.” She adds 3 fingers in your pussy, speeding up your orgasm.

The pressure coils tight, her relentlessness breaking you. Your orgasm hits hard, pussy clenching around nothing as she pulls out her fingers. You cry out, thighs shaking against her hold, but she keeps licking, drawing out every pulse, swallowing your release with greedy laps. Her eyes stay fixed on yours through it all, that crazy contact unbroken.

She intentionally overstimulates you and you wildly push her off, groaning at her chuckles while she’s wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Fuck,” she says. “Hurt that bad?”

You’re too spent to even reply. She walks over to the nightstand, grabbing the harness, the one with that thick silicone you've been dreaming about. She straps it on quick, the dildo jutting out always ready, girthy, not needing to ever lube it because she knows you’re always absurdly wet for her.

You watch her, heart pounding from what just occurred, as she stands at the edge of the bed, her athletic body fucking perfection, tall lean muscle and power. She grabs your ankles, yanking you toward her until your ass is right at the mattress edge, your legs up and over her shoulders. Your thighs drape up across her broad ones, dangling there as she positions herself between them, her hands gripping your hips too tight. “Look at me, baby,” she murmurs, voice dropping filthily. “Watch me fuck this tight little pussy.”

She lines up the tip, rubbing it through your soaked folds, teasing your clit until you whimper. Then, without warning, she thrusts in, deep, brutal, stretching you wide open. Caitlin’s silicone fills you completely, that thick length splitting you apart, hitting every inch inside. You cry out, back arching off the bed, but she doesn’t stop. She starts pounding, hips snapping forward with animal force, the bed creaking under the assault. Her hands slide to your thighs, holding them firm against her stomach. as she drives in harder, faster, the wet slap of her harness against your skin echoing loud in the room.

“Fuck, you make me feel so good,” she groans, getting off with the poundings nudging her clit, eyes never leaving yours, her intense gaze making it feel like she’s seeing straight into your soul while she wrecks your body.

Her wedding ring, a fucking rock of a diamond on her right hand digs into your thigh. “Sooo wet, your pussy’s been waiting to choke me, huh?” she pants, eyes squinted in pleasure. “I missed this,missed ruining you, making you mine again.” Each thrust is primal, rough, her body slamming into yours like she can’t get deep enough, the strap grinding against your walls, stretching you to the limit. It hurts so good, the burn mixing with the pleasure, your clit throbbing from the friction every time she bottoms out.

“Tell me who this pussy belongs to” It’s too much, too fast, your body’s still buzzing from her mouth, and now this feral pounding has you overwhelmed. “Cait, mmm slow down,” you gasp, hands fisting hers on your thighs, tears pricking your eyes as the intensity builds. “You’re too rough—fuck, please.” But she just shakes her head, her long face twisting with raw need, milky skin glistening as sweat drips down her neck. She leans in closer, one hand reaching to cup your face, thumb brushing your cheek even as her hips keep that punishing rhythm, strap slamming deep.

“No, baby, I can’t,” she whispers, voice sweet but dripping with filth, her dark brown hair falling forward to tickle your skin. “I love you too much. You feel too fucking good, your cunts sucking me in like it never wants me to stop. I need to fuck you like this,” She kisses you then, messy and deep, tongue shoving into your mouth as she grinds and fucks even harder, the strap pistoning in and out with sloppy, obscene sounds. Your legs tremble on her shoulders, thighs quivering from the hold, and you feel so helpless under her, pinned, overpowered, her strong body dominating yours completely. “Now, who does this pussy belong to?”

Tears spill over now, hot tracks down your cheeks, but it’s not just pain, it’s the overwhelming love of it, the way she takes you apart so completely. You love when she gets like this, feral and selfish, chasing her own pleasure through yours, wanting to see you under her and taking her. Her clit rubbing against the harness base with every brutal thrust. “You” you moan out.

“Say my name.”

“You, caitlin!”

“Say it again.” she’s getting off on the ownership of it all. Of owning you. You’re her wife.

“My pussy belongs to you caitlin, only you, forever you”

“Yeah,” she pants. “It does. That’s all mine. Cry for me,” she moans now against your lips, eyes “Love seeing my pretty wife all helpless, pussy stretched wide on me. You’re taking it so good too like you always do, gonna make me cum just from how you squeeze me. Fuck, you’re my filthy little baby, aren’t you?”

You nod, and she taps your lips with your fingers. “I knew my good girl could take me. She always can.” The coil snaps inside you, your body shattering under her relentless thrusts, pussy clenching hard around the thick silicone cock as waves of pleasure crash through you. You scream Caitlin’s name, tears streaming freely now, and she just keeps pounding, drawing out every shudder until you're a trembling mess. “Cumming so prettily for your wife, shit, I love how you break for me.”

She finally slows, pulling out with a wet pop that makes you whine at the sudden emptiness, your stretched hole twitching in the cool air. But she’s not done, not after thirty one days apart. Her hands grip your hips, flipping you over onto your stomach with effortless strength, her athletic body pressing down as she yanks your ass up high. You end up on all fours, knees spread wide on the bed, face buried in the pillows. She kneels behind you, one hand gently fisting your hair to arch your back, the other sliding the strap back into position.

“Look at at my gorgeous ass,” she praises, voice dripping with filthy adoration, slapping your cheek hard enough to sting. “All mine to fuck, baby.” She lines it back up at your pussy

She turns your head to the side and spits right on your face, the warm glob landing messy as you lift a hand, her voice cuts stern, “Don’t wipe it off baby,” she smiles. “You look so good with my saliva on you.” Cait murmurs, sweet like honey but rotten with lust, her dark brown hair brushing your back as she leans over you. Then she shoves in deep, bottoming out in one filling stroke that gently punches the air from your lungs. You cry out, fingers clawing back at her, but she doesn’t give you a second to adjust. Her hips fuck unforgivingly, the new angle letting her hit even deeper, stretching you wider, as you look back at her, spit making everything slicker, nastier.

One hand snakes around to your cheek from behind, fingers wrapping tight, area between her thumb and index finger under your jaw to squish up your face, ring cold against your face. She pulls you back against her chest, your body arched like a bow, “Breathe for me, baby” she whispers in your ear, before kissing your ear sweetly, then keeping her face there, voice a mix of tender command and pure filth, spitting in your eye as she pounds harder.

You can’t see at all from one eyeball now, moaning crazily from the hotness of it all. “You're doing so fucking good, bounce that ass back on me.” She tells you to open your mouth again, you listen faithfully, and she hocks it right onto your mouth. You taste it, warm and intimate, and it only makes you push back harder, loving everything she gives you. “Didn’t even have to tell you to swallow,” she chuckles endearingly. “Cutie.”

You shatter another time, walls fluttering around the strap, a sob tearing from your lips as the world narrows to her voice, her grip, her filthy sweet words. She follows right after, grinding deep with a guttural moan, her body shuddering against yours as she rides out her orgasm, choking you through the aftershocks until you’re both spent.

She eases you down gently onto the bed, pulling out slow and careful, her hands immediately turning soft as she gathers you into her arms. Caitlin takes the strap off and spoons you from behind, her face nuzzling into your neck, dark brown hair tickling your skin while her ghostly pale freckled arms wrap around your waist, holding you close like you’re the most precious thing in her world. You are

“Shh, I’ve got you, baby,” she whispers, voice all tenderness now, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder as she wipes the tears and spit from your face with her palm. “You were incredible, my love, so strong and beautiful.” You close your eyes and smile naturally. “I love you more than words, sweetheart.”

with the warmth of her body chasing away any lingering ache, filling the room with quiet peace as you drift together, connected and whole, you can rest knowing Your Caitlin is finally returned to you, and she wont be leaving any time soon. “I missed you so much.”

♡ ۶ৎ

[coffeeluv3r]

What We Couldn’t Be Pt.2

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Ex! Reader x Caitlin Clark

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: After a tense Fever–Wings game where your injury sparks a viral video between the you and Caitlin, and Azzi and Paige, shipping and reigniting rivalries, Paige’s unresolved feelings resurface, and she desperately tries to reach you—only to find herself blocked.

Author's note: helloooo everybody, you guys wanted a part 2, and here it isssss!! srry for the late upload, college had been fucking me huhu

THE DAYS LEADING UP TO the Fever–Wings game passed in a strange, fragile rhythm. You’d been living in that uncertain space between healing and breaking, where the scars of Paige’s departure were still tender but no longer openly bleeding. Grief, you learned, wasn’t just sorrow—it was the quiet hollow that lingered even when you laughed, the sharpness that pierced when you least expected it.

And yet, Caitlin was there. Always.

Not in the loud, performative way of someone swooping in to replace what you had lost, but in the quiet ways that mattered: a meme sent to your phone right before bed that made you snort despite yourself; a hand on your shoulder after practice that lingered just long enough to remind you that you weren’t as invisible as you sometimes felt; the way she caught your gaze during interviews, grounding you with a look that said, I know you’re tired. I’ve got you.

It wasn’t love—not yet. But it wasn’t just friendship either.

Something in between. Something dangerously fragile.

The arena buzzed with energy hours before tipoff. Commentators hyped up the “most awaited rivalry,” spinning narratives of Caitlin versus Paige, two college legends now carrying their names into the WNBA spotlight. But beneath the media chatter, you knew fans were watching something else. You.

Because whether you liked it or not, your name was always tied to Paige’s. The breakup, the whispered drama, the way your paths continued to collide—it was all fuel for storylines you couldn’t control.

Caitlin approached you as you laced up your sneakers, her expression unreadable but her tone casual. “Ready?”

You nodded, forcing a smile. “As I’ll ever be.”

Her lips curved in a half-smirk, the kind that always looked like she was both teasing you and daring the world to underestimate her. “Good. Let’s make this game ours, rookie.”

The words echoed in your chest. Ours.

The first half unfolded with brutal intensity. Dallas played with sharp precision, Paige moving across the court with the grace you knew all too well. Watching her handle the ball again, hearing the crowd roar her name, you felt a pang—not of longing, but of recognition. She was still everything she had been when you loved her: fierce, brilliant, magnetic.

But you weren’t the same anymore.

Every time you dribbled past her, every time Caitlin called your name and tossed you the ball, you felt yourself shifting into something steadier. You weren’t Paige’s shadow anymore—you were your own force.

Still, the tension was undeniable. When you collided with Paige on a defensive switch, your bodies pressed for just a second too long, her breath hot against your cheek. Neither of you spoke, but your silence screamed.

The crowd felt it. The cameras caught it. Social media was already dissecting it before the halftime buzzer.

It occurred at the end of the second quarter.

Caitlin threaded a perfect pass your way, the kind of instinctive connection that came from hours of practice and an unspoken understanding. You sprinted toward the basket, adrenaline pumping, the layup waiting like a promise.

But your fingers betrayed you. The ball slipped, the spin was wrong, and as it clanged hard against the rim, you landed awkwardly. Pain tore through your ankle, sharp and unrelenting. You collapsed to the cold floor of the court, clutching it as the whistle shrieked. A sharp grunt left your lips as you try to keep the scream from tearing your throat.

The noise of the crowd dimmed, replaced by the rush of blood in your ears.

Then, suddenly, Paige was there.

Her hand extended to your shoulder, her eyes wide with concern. The world narrowed to that moment—the familiarity of her presence, the memory of every time she had steadied you before.

But before you could move, Caitlin was at your side.

She crouched low, slipping her arm under yours that wasn’t held by Paige, with a firmness that left no room for argument. Her eyes flicked up to Paige’s, hard and unyielding, and she moved Paige’s hand away from you. It wasn’t a spoken challenge, but it might as well have been.

Back off. She’s with me now.

The crowd roared. Phones lit up. Hashtags were born in real time.

And you? You let Caitlin help you up because your body ached, because your pride was shattered, and maybe because a part of you wanted her to.

By the time you sat on the bench, in your team's respective dugout, ankle wrapped and elevated, the internet had already chosen its narrative.

Clips of Caitlin lifting you, her hand steady on your back, flooded Twitter and TikTok. You and Paige staring for a few seconds, and her helping you. Caitlin and Paige’s stare off. Edits of your shared glances with Caitlin after she helped you up, spliced with romantic music, comments about “chemistry you can’t fake,” and captions like Caitlin stepping up where Paige failed, trended worldwide.

“#CaitlinxReader” exploded.

You scrolled briefly on your phone, your chest tightening as you saw thousands of fans declaring Caitlin and you the new it duo, speculating on whether there was more than friendship between you. Some celebrated it; others dredged up Paige’s name, comparing, debating, weaponizing your pain for clicks.

And you couldn’t ignore the fact that maybe Paige had seen it too.

Because during the third quarter and towards the fourth, you caught her glances—sharp, unsettled with a clenched jaw, lingering longer than they should.

Dallas won. The final buzzer blared, sealing the game in their favor, but the arena still buzzed with a different kind of electricity. The rivalry was no longer just about basketball—it was personal.

You limped toward the tunnel, exhaustion and frustration weighing you down. And then, fate twisted cruelly.

You collided—hard—with Paige.

The impact jolted through you, and for a second, all the air left your lungs. You looked up, meeting her eyes, and it was like being dragged back in time.

“Watch it,” you muttered, your voice brittle with the effort of keeping your composure.

Her jaw clenched. “Really? That’s all you have to say?”

You froze. “What do you want me to say, Paige? That I’m grateful you tried to play savior out there? That it means something? It doesn’t.”

Her face hardened, but her voice cracked. “Don’t act like I don’t still—”

“Still what?” you demanded, your voice rising. “Still care? Then why did you leave me like I didn’t matter?”

The words hung between you, heavy and unrelenting.

And then all of a sudden Azzi appeared, her brows furrowed so deeply.

She slipped her arm through Paige’s, standing squarely between you with an expression that burned. “Is this what it’s about? You causing drama again?”

Your chest tightened. “What are you talking about? I wasn't causing any drama—”

“Oh, please,” Azzi cut in, voice sharp as glass. “You’re clinging to something that’s over. She’s with me now. Get over it.”

“Azzi, cut it out.” Paige immediately said as she tries to keep her calm.

The sting of her words sliced deep, but before you could react, Caitlin was there.

Her presence was like gravity—solid, unshakable. She stepped closer, her hand brushing your elbow, steadying you. “Back off,” she said, voice low and calm, but laced with steel.

The tunnel pulsed with tension. Cameras flashed. Reporters whispered. The world was watching, even if it wasn’t supposed to.

Security and some team staffs eventually intervened, pulling everyone apart before the confrontation could escalate. But the damage was done. Clips of the moment were already captured and went viral: Paige reaching for you, Azzi stepping in, Caitlin defending you. Fans were eating the interaction so much that they were dedicated in dissecting every second, every glance, every touch.

Back in the dugout room, you sat in silence, ankle throbbing, head spinning. Caitlin dropped down beside you, tossing a towel in your direction.

“You okay?” she asked softly.

You nodded, though your throat felt raw. “Yeah. Just… tired.”

She studied you for a long moment, then reached out, brushing her fingers briefly against yours. “You don’t have to explain yourself to anyone. Not her. Not Azzi. Not the fans. You’re more than their storyline. They don’t owe you anything.”

Something in your chest cracked—not painfully, but like a dam giving way. You didn’t reply, but you let her hand linger against yours, and for the first time that night, you felt like you could breathe.

Later, in Dallas’ locker room, the storm raged on. Two lovers in a fit of rage, away from everybody else. Away from prying eyes and ears.

Azzi paced, her hands balled into fists. “You’re still in love with her, aren’t you?”

Paige’s head snapped up, her voice sharp. “I’m not.”

“Then why do you look at her like that?” Azzi’s voice broke, trembling with both anger and fear. “Why do you freeze every time her name comes up? Why does it feel like I’m competing with someone who isn’t even here anymore?”

“I chose you.” Paige insisted, her voice strained, desperate. “I’m with you, Azzi. She’s—she’s in the past."

“Then why doesn’t it feel that way, huh?”

“Do you still love her, Paige?” When Paide didn't answer right away, Azzi continued in a feeble voice.

“I- I am... not. I don’t anymore. Stop bringing it up.” Paige stammered, eyes wavering away from Azzi, backing away with unstable steps, running a hand through her hair.

“Why did you hesitate?” Azzi’s eyes are now brimming with tears.

Paige could only walk away, shaking her head.

That night, your phone buzzed relentlessly. Messages, missed calls—all from Paige.

Please. Just talk to me.

I need to explain.

Don’t shut me out like this.

Don’t say anything if you don’t want talk, just hear me out.

Be angry at me.

Shout at me.

Curse at me.

I don’t care, just talk to me.

Please.

You stared at the screen, heart pounding, thumb hovering. For a moment, the temptation gnawed at you. To hear her voice again, to let her in, to feed the part of you that still ached for closure.

But then you remembered the tunnel. The argument at her apartment. The begging. The hurt. The sting of her absence. The way Caitlin’s steady presence had felt like safety when everything else threatened to crumble.

You pressed Block.

You didn’t know if it made you feel a little better.

Lying in the quiet of your hotel room, your ankle iced and your phone turned face down on the nightstand, you stared at the ceiling.

Caitlin’s text came hours later, simple but enough: “Rest up. I’m here.”

And though the world outside was on fire—fans dissecting your every move, Paige and Azzi splintering under the weight of unspoken truths—you allowed yourself a small smile.

Because for the first time in a long time, you weren’t defined by Paige.

You were something else. Something more.

And maybe, just maybe, Caitlin was part of it.