#ncaaw
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𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐕𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄, 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 ─ NK¹⁰
౨ৎ ─ summary | nika calls her girlfriend while they're at an away game, only to be teased by her team (and nika, of course). REQUESTED! -> "MOREEE NIKAAA PLSSSS UR SO GOOD"
─ word count | 685
─ warnings | nothing but sweetness, fluff and some teasing!
─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!
"YOU SHOULD'VE JUST SLAPPED HER," NIKA'S voice rung from your phone speaker as you laughed, rolling your eyes.
"Oh trust me, I wanted to." You joked as you leaned back into your bed, a tired yawn escaping your lips. Nika was at an away game and per usual ─ Nika had to call you and talk to you.
Even if it was only a couple days away from each other, she needed to hear your voice because the one time she didn't call you at an away game ─ they lost, badly. And of course because she misses your sexy voice.
The sound of her laughter echoed through the phone, a comforting melody that soothed your tired mind. "If I was there, I woulda slapped her for you."
"I know you would have, baby." You rolled your eyes as you playfully replied, the fondness evident in your tone. "But then we'd both be in trouble, and who would cheer for you at your next game?"
Nika chuckled, the sound music to your ears. "Good point. Can't have my lucky charm getting banned from the arena, we'd never make it to playoffs."
You smiled, imagining Nika's smirk on the other end of the line. "Exactly. Besides," you added, "I wouldn't want to miss cheering you on. You know I'm your number one fan."
Nika's laughter bubbled over again, warming your heart even more. "Damn right you are. I'd be lost without you there, cheering me on with that sexy voice of yours."
You couldn't help but blush at her compliment, feeling a rush of affection for her. "Well, I'll make sure to save my best cheers for you."
"That's all I ask," Nika replied, her voice softening. "Just knowing you're there, rooting for me, means everything."
Before you could respond, you heard a bunch of voices laughing in the background teasing her. You could only guess that it's her teammates, a smile playing on her lips.
"Oh shut up, you guys are all jealous 'cus you don't have a hot girlfriend cheering you on!" Nika called out to her teammates, her tone playful yet teasing.
The voices in the background only grew louder, confirming your suspicions. It seemed like Nika's teammates enjoyed teasing her about her softness for you, but you knew it was all in good fun.
"I swear, you guys are worse than a bunch of gossiping high schoolers," Nika exclaimed, her laughter mixing with the banter of her teammates.
"Sounds like you're having fun over there," you remarked, amusement evident in your voice. "Tell them I said hi. And that they better treat my girl right, or they'll have to answer to me."
Nika laughed, her voice amused as some of the girls began laughing as well. "Don't worry, babe. They know better than to mess with you."
"Why are you laughing? You don't think I'm intimidating, Nika?" You mocked hurt as you scoffed, swallowing the urge to join in the laugher as you pushed the blanket to your shoulders.
Nika's laughter only intensified at your mock hurt, her voice laced with amusement. "Oh, believe me, babe, you're the most intimidating person I know. I'm shaking in my boots over here."
"Oh shut up, you've been hanging too much with Paige. She's rubbing off on you, shaking in your boots?" You repeated, playfully scoffing.
"Hey, don't blame Paige for my awesome sense of humor," Nika retorted, her laughter still audible in the background. "Besides, a little boot-shaking never hurt anyone."
You couldn't help but laugh at Nika's comeback, her wit as sharp as ever. "Fine, fine, I'll let it slide this time. But don't think you're off the hook for teasing me."
Nika's laughter gradually subsided, replaced by a softer, more affectionate tone. "Wouldn't dream of it, baby. You know I love teasing you almost as much as I love you."
Your heart fluttered at her words, a warmth spreading through you at the reminder of her affection. "Almost, huh? Well, I'll take what I can get."
"Good," Nika replied, her voice gentle. "Because you've got all of me, now and forever."
↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
#wcbb x reader#wcbb#uconn#uconn wbb#women's college basketball#ncaaw#nika muhl x reader#nika muhl imagine#nika mühl#nika muhl#uconn huskies#uconn women’s basketball
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right where you left me
part: 1
pairing: paige bueckers x oc
word count: 2.6k
c/w: language
a/n: heyyyy everyone! my anons have been begging for another series like anyone else, so here's one i've been thinking about for a second and finally put to paper. i hope you like this just as much as 'anyone else'. btw, if you guys want to send in long ass asks live reacting to my writing (whoever @imaginespazzi 's anon is that does this, i LOVE it) it's such a great way to know what you do and don't like about my writing, and i'd so appreciate it. love you guys!
I blink as the sun hits my eyes, almost blinding me. I stretch at my front door, loosening my muscles that are still a little tight from sleep. I squint against the blaring sunlight, then push my AirPods in and start off down my street. It’s this quaint little neighborhood in Virginia, a not-too-far cry from my home state of Minnesota.
My run is peaceful, Kendrick Lamar blaring in my ears, the music a smooth symphony of artful lyrics backed by a spurring beat. I take down about three miles, reaching what looks to be an old basketball court before slowing to a jog, then a halt. I pant, placing my hands on my hips and allowing my chest to heave as I recover from the run. My sports bra and shorts are soaked with sweat, but the summer air is refreshing.
I tip my head back, soaking in the sun, when I hear a voice behind me. “Hey, you shooting or…” I whip my head around, the voice impossibly and frighteningly familiar.
No fucking way.
“Maya.”
“Paige,” I breathe.
She hesitates, a ball braced at her side, and it looks so natural, just as it always has. She’s wearing a white tee shirt and dark shorts, with blue, red, and white shoes on her feet. Her hair is parted down the middle, slung into a bun at the base of her neck. My breath catches when my eyes meet her stark, blue ones - pools of crystal that glimmer in the summer sun. Her limbs are long and she’s tan, her lips stuck in that damned half-smirk that used to drive me crazy. It fades from her face a little as she takes me in, and I cross my arms over my stomach self-consciously.
“What are you… what are you doing here?” I swallow hard as I stutter over my words.
She coughs awkwardly, tossing the ball back and forth between her hands. “My friend, Azzi - don’t know if you remember her, um… She lives here. In this neighborhood. But we also moved to Virginia when we- when I left for school.”
I remember Azzi. She was one of Paige’s basketball friends, a tall, pretty girl with dark hair and a kind smile. Paige clears her throat. “You… uh, what about you?” I blink. “Oh, um. Yeah, same, actually, my family moved here. Also.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
We’re quiet for a few more minutes. It’s my turn to clear my throat awkwardly.
“Still dancing?” She asks.
I laugh nervously. “Can’t seem to stop. Still hooping?”
She smiles a little more at that. “Can’t seem to stop,” she echoes back to me. Paige hesitates for a moment.
“You look good,” she admits after a few moments.
My eyebrows shoot up. “Oh! Thanks, um… you do, too. Look good, I mean. You look great!”
She raises an eyebrow at my rambling. “Great?” She muses.
I scoff. “No, good. You look good.”
“No, I got it the first time.” Her smirk is widening, her tone teasing.
“Good.”
“Not great?” She’s pushing my buttons now.
“Paige, stop,” I blurt out.
It hangs over us - my usage of her name, the undeniable tension that lingers in the air, nearly suffocating.
She looks down at the ground, kicking at it. “Sorry,” she mumbles.
I sigh. “No, you’re fine. I should- I should go.”
“Maya, don’t do that. Look, I’m sorry-”
“No, I should get home. It was good to see you.”
Stubbornly, I plug my headphones in, pretending not to hear her voice calling out my name, the sound of it echoing behind me, praying I can drown out the past if I just turn my music up loud enough.
************
“You’re doing it wrong. Put your foot down on the off beat.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Paige demands, and I bite back a grin.
Patiently, I re-explain the 8 count to her. “It’s just a stupid TikTok. Bro, you’re so extra,” she whines. I hold my hands up. “You’re the one who said you wanted to learn it for real. Like, dancer-style.”
“I never said that.”
“I think those were actually your exact words. Okay, look-”
Paige groans. “Can we take a break?” She begs, grabbing her phone and tossing it onto her bed. She collapses onto it right after, shrugging her shirt off before falling back onto the pillows. I roll my eyes, grabbing my own phone. I sigh, looking at my notifications. Paige’s eyes flicker to mine. “What? Nicky again?” I shake my head. “It’s just… I need to break up with her.” Paige tries and fails to stifle a grin. “You think she knows?” She asks. There’s a hint of smugness to her tone that I don’t like.
I narrow my eyes as she eases off the bed and approaches me, slinging her arms around my waist. “Knows what?” I ask. Paige smirks. “You know what,” she smiles, dipping her head to mine. I shove at her chest, but she pulls me closer. “Knows what we’re really doing?” Paige teases. “Shut up, Paige,” I chide, but she moves in, anyway, slotting her lips against mine in a slow, meaningful kiss.
Her lips work against mine skillfully, and though I’ve only kissed Paige a few times by now, melting into her is only instinct. “Did you eat my Nerds?” She demands, pulling away and licking her lips. I crinkle my nose at her. “Maybe?” She shakes her head at me, mischief glinting in her eyes, before she hoists me up, tossing me onto the bed. “You’re gonna pay for that,” she warns playfully, before tackling me, fingers poking into my sides and eliciting raucous laughter from the both of us. “Okay, okay! I’ll buy you more, stop! Stop!” I shriek. She collapses on top of me, ignoring the way I push at her shoulders.
Paige stares down at me, then leans down to connect our lips again, mouth dancing languidly with mine. I sigh, pushing a hand into her hair and responding eagerly, winding my leg between hers. “Tell her,” she urges, pecking me once. I sigh. “I know. I feel awful about it.” She pushes her body slightly up and nudges my nose with hers. “Come on. She’s not stupid.” She tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “We’re… obvious. You know?” I raise my eyebrow. “If you mean that everyone can tell how bad you want me, then yeah,” I tell her. She sucks her teeth, hitting me on the shoulder. “Tch. You know what I mean. We… were gonna happen.”
I grin at her, though I don’t mean to. “You seem pretty confident about that,” I muse. She grins back at me, her mouth hovering over mine. “Good. I am.”
***************
My run home is more of a sprint, and I’m absolutely spent when I shove through my front door. “Maya!” My mom calls. “Come help with the groceries!” I oblige, unlacing my shoes and skidding into the kitchen. My mom’s head is stuck in the fridge, trying to make room for all the new produce she’s just bought, so I make myself busy storing away the pantry foods.
“You will not believe who I ran into at the store!” My mom exclaims, poking her head out from behind the fridge door. She’s still in her scrubs, probably just having finished off a shift at work. I raise an eyebrow. “Michelle Obama?” I ask. She frowns at me. “You’re not funny.” I shrug. “I beg to differ.”
My mom is definitely more of my best friend than my actual mom. I mean, she works so much, and I’ve had to practically raise my brother. Plus, with my dad out of the picture since… forever, she’s really all I had.
“Anyway,” she says pointedly, dusting off her hands. “I was at the store, and I ran into Bob Bueckers! Isn’t that crazy? I haven’t seen the Bueckers’ in years, and you and Paige were so close…” My mom continues speaking, I’m sure, but there’s a sudden muffled tone to it, like there’s water in my ears.
It’s just the mention of her name. I hadn’t heard it in years, had tried my best not to even think of her because I knew it would hurt. And seeing her today…
It isn’t fair. She does look great - better, somehow. Not the tall, lanky teenager I was used to. She’s a whole woman, now - muscled and lean, much more sure of herself. And yet… so much is the same - that damned perpetual half smile on her face, the way she tilts her head, the way her eyes glint. I can’t help but wonder if other things are the same, as well.
If her hands are as warm as they always used to be.
If she still picks her face when she’s nervous.
Fuck. Stop it.
“Did you hear what I said, sweetie?”
I shake my head out of my reverie, turning back to my mom. “Uh, no?”
“I invited them over for dinner tonight. Wear something nice.”
I splutter, processing what she’s just said. “I’m sorry. You what?”
*************************************
“Uh… here.”
I gingerly take the loaf of banana bread from Paige. I don’t meet her eyes as I let her, her brother, her dad, and her stepmom into the house. “Thanks,” I mumble. Drew stares up at me. “You look different,” he says matter of factly. I smile a little at him. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” I tease. He narrows his eyes at me. “I’ll let you know,” he informs me, then skips past me. My little brother, Matthew, catches sight of him, and the two of them run off eagerly to play together.
My heart squeezes a bit at this. I hadn’t realized that Paige and I… growing apart, I suppose one could call it, would mean that our brothers would lose a friendship, too. “He’s, uh… He’s tall, now,” she tries, hesitantly. I glance up at her from the side of my eye, walking to place the dessert on the dining table. She follows me. I hate that she does. I hate that she still smells like herself, that the way she looms over me feels oh-so-familiar.
I toy with the sleeve of my top nervously. “Is that- is that mine?” Paige blurts out suddenly. I glance down at my navy blue top, and my eyes widen. She’s right. It is her shirt, and I hadn’t even realized. It’s a bit big on me, and I’d found it in a box after we’d moved to the new house. “Oh. I guess so, do you want it back? I can go change?” I yammer, and she shakes her head frantically. “No! You don’t have to- That’s not what I meant, you-” She clears her throat.
“It looks nice on you.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
I chance a glance at my feet, my hands, anywhere but her. She sighs. “Well, this is fucking awkward,” she mutters. I laugh hollowly. “Whose fault is that, hm?” I say, and I can’t keep the acrid taste of resentment out of my voice. I don’t miss the way her eyes flit to mine, mouth twisting with an unspoken response. “Maya-” she starts. “We should go help,” I interrupt, turning on my heel and walking quickly to the kitchen.
As though it couldn’t get any more awkward, Paige ends up right across from me at dinner. Our parents chatter away, our little brothers in some heated discussion about basketball, and all she and I can do is pick at our food. There are onions in the stir-fry my mom made.
Paige hates onions.
I stifle a grin, despite myself. She’ll eat them, anyway, but I see her pushing them around her plate, putting it off. “Problem, Paige?” I ask sweetly. She narrows her eyes at me. “Not at all,” she shoots back. My mom abruptly stops the conversation she’s having. “Are you alright, honey? Is the food okay?” Paige nods hastily.
“Yes, Ms. Jacobs! It’s so good,” she reassures her. My mom cocks her head, sharp as ever. “Well, you’ve hardly touched it!” I bite back a laugh as Paige shovels a huge scoop into her mouth. “Really good,” she says around the food, smiling as best as she can at my mom. My mom nods, satisfied, and turns away. Paige shoots me a look, kicking me under the table.
I’m shocked. So shocked that the action is natural for her, and shocked at what I do next: kick her back. She gasps, and I guess the huge bite she’s just taken goes down the wrong pipe. She begins coughing violently, and my eyes widen. “Paige? Maya, honey, take her to the kitchen! Get her some water,” she instructs, concerned. Paige thumps her chest, holding up a hand. “All good, I swear,” she tries to say, but her coughs swallow her words.
“Okay, get up. Come on,” I sigh, walking around the table to haul her to her feet by her elbow. I drag her to the kitchen, patting her on the back. I hand her a water bottle from the fridge and she accepts it gratefully. When she looks to the ceiling, her eyes are glassy with tears. “You’re such a little shit,” I sneer. “Me?” She demands indignantly. “Yes! I didn’t even kick you that hard,” I complain.
She raises an eyebrow. “What? You want me to show you?”
“You kicked me first!”
“You were instigating,” she hisses back.
“Spell ‘instigating’, Paige.”
“Kiss my ass.”
“Find someone else to do it. That’s what college is for, isn’t it?”
We both fall silent at that. Then, realizing how close we’ve gotten, we back away.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
She sighs. “No, it’s… I deserve that.”
I bite my lip, glancing at the ceiling. “It’s fine. It’s been… what, three years?”
“Still. I should’ve-”
“Look, dude, I’m over it. I’m just giving you a hard time,” I say. Lies. I’m not over it. Not even close.
She blinks. “Yeah, no. Of course. I’m- I’m over it, too.”
“Good.”
“Great.”
It’s so painfully awkward that I want to scream. This is someone who had seen me at my worst, who had held me sobbing when I hadn’t gotten into the school I wanted.
This is the person who sat with me when my dad died, and I had grappled with the grief of losing someone I had hardly ever known.
This is the person who had seen all of me, who had taken my virginity, who had kissed away all my fears and made me feel loved and safe and whole - and the person who had made all of that come crashing down in one fell swoop.
And now I look at her, standing in my kitchen, far from the Minnesota homes we both grew up in. The sharp pain of ‘I don’t fucking know you anymore’ stabs at my heart, nestles into my throat, and I feel tears pricking at my eyes.
I turn away from her and march back into the dining room.
I’m done letting her make me cry.
It’s later that night, long after Paige and her family have left, when I’m finishing up washing the dishes that I hear a knock on the door. I frown, wondering if my mom is expecting someone. Drying my hands off with a towel, I warily open the door.
It’s Paige. My breath catches.
“Hi,” she starts uneasily.
“Hey. Did you forget something?” I ask, keeping my distance.
“Huh? Oh, no. I just…” She swallows hard, looking at her feet.
She clears her throat. “Can we talk?”
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COACH DAWN STALEY and the SOUTH CAROLINA GAMECOCKS win the 2024 NCAA Women's Basketball National Championship and complete their perfect 38-0 season
#dawn staley#south carolina gamecocks#ncaaw#wcbb#womens sports#dailywoc#dailywomen#userladiesblr#femaledaily#wonderfulwoc#wbb#south carolina wbb#basketball#womens basketball#mygif
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caitlin wrote her a whole ass poem and paige just said she was competitive like😭
nah fr
this paige and caitlin during media today 😭
#wbb#wcbb#uconn wbb#uconn#uconn huskies#paige bueckers#iowa wbb#caitlin clark#ncaaw#march madness#steph curry#lebron james
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Women's college basketball is officially back! Just know South Carolina is gunning for that title they should've won last season.
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Gideon Taaffe and Charis Hoard at MMFA:
Instead of celebrating the rising influence of women’s basketball, right-wing media seized on the highly anticipated draft to attack the WNBA and dismiss the low wages of some of basketball’s biggest stars.
After a historic women’s NCAA tournament, the Women’s National Basketball Association draft drew substantial media attention both praising the rising influence of the league and criticizing the low wages of the league’s stars. Right-wing media chose to denigrate the sport and its players rather than engage with critiques of how women athletes are treated.
With the WNBA's popularity surging due to several college megastars such as Caitlin Clark being drafted, right-wing media launched unhinged sexist attacks against the league (and women's sports in general). These same people attacking the WNBA and women's sports launch attacks against trans women participating in women's sports under the purported guise of "saving women's sports."
#Women's Sports#Sexism#WNBA#Caitlin Clark#Matt Walsh#Clay Travis#Dan Dakich#Jason Whitlock#Tom Shillue#Blain Crain#Alex Berenson#Liz Wheeler#Outkick#FNC#The Daily Wire#Gender Pay Gap#Women's College Basketball#NCAAW
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made these during halftime
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lemme just say rn i’m not gonna tolerate any disrespect on angel reese, yes i’m a diehard caitlin clark fan but all reese did is give her a taste of what she dishes out, if y’all think it’s fine when clark does it and trashy when reese does it go ahead and reflect on what the difference is between the two
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What do you think about Shea Ralph the head coach at Vanderbilt
I love her and I've been really impressed with how she's coached there the last couple of years, but especially this year. They were picked to finish last in the SEC this year and Shea said hell no and they're at #5 which is awesome.
I think once Geno retires, she's definitely the most likely candidate to take over at UConn as well.
#ask#wcbb#ncaaw#womens college basketball#definitely one of my sleeper picks to make a deep tournament run
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South Carolina Gamecocks - 2024 SEC CHAMPS!!
#south carolina gamecocks#South Carolina#ncaaw#women’s basketball#basketball#sec champs#once again!!!#big congrats to Fulwiley!!!#ncaa
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nika muhl x volleyball!fem!reader hcs :))
─ warnings | nothing but fluff!
─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!
she is the most supportive girlfriend on the damn court
she will be wearing your jersey ALWAYS, and on special nights she'll even make cute posters
something cute like this one or that one
she takes being a volleyball gf to the next level
she's kinda like that annoying mom on the sidelines, screaming what to do
she means well though babygirl is just competitive
"communication, ladies! come on, i wanna hear you from over here?!"
"where's our defense?!" "there is no defense-" "shut up!"
after games, she is so excited to talk to you and hug you!!!!
she also takes 5,000 pics at each game
whether its you playing or WITH you after the game, yeah her storage is FULL
she reposts your volleyball team every time they post about you cus she's so damn proud to be your girlfriend
she gets really into the game like i said earlier, but she still doesn't really understand it
all she knows is that you have to keep the ball in the air
but she will learn from you and pick up some terms
"good dig, baby!"
it's adorable
however she kinda becomes like your second coach sometimes, she loves giving you little tips
even tho she's never played...
it's cute tho, she never over do's it
when she has a game the same you do, she makes sure to get the recording so she can still give you some tips
SHE MEANS WELL I PROMISE SHE JUST WANTS YOU TO BE THE BEST EVER (and in her eyes, you really are)
she gets mad at your coach every time she benches you
"okay great, awesome. bench your best player"
in some ways, she really is just an volleyball mom
#wcbb x reader#wcbb#uconn huskies#uconn#uconn wbb#uconn women’s basketball#nika muhl x reader#nika muhl imagine#nika mühl#nika muhl#ncaaw#ncaa#ncaa women’s basketball#ncaa wbb#wnba basketball
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mine
pairing: paige bueckers x reader
word count: 3.6k
c/w: sexual content (strap LOL), language
synopsis: paige wants her girl that's not quite her girl to wear her jersey, everyone gets jealous and possessive. fun time!
a/n: lol this was in the archives but i'm putting it out as a little treat because of the win yesterday!
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No!”
“No.”
“Still no.”
“Just wear my jersey, dude.” Paige is complaining. Again. “No, I’m not wearing your jersey. That’s like tattooing ‘Property of Paige Bueckers’ across my forehead.” Paige raises her eyebrows. “Please do that.” I throw a shoe at her. “That’s not happening.” She dodges it easily. “I swear I’d still have sex with you if you did,” she says. I roll my eyes, retrieving said shoe. “That’s not my main concern here.”
“So you don’t even care that it’s my homecoming game?” She pouts. “No, I don’t.” Paige frowns, flopping onto my bed. “Give me one good reason you won’t.” I scoff. “The entire world is going to know we’re hooking up.” It’s her turn to scoff. “Do you think I’ve hooked up with every person who wears my jersey to a game? Because that’s, like, a lot of people.” I frown at her. “That was a really weird time for you to flex.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m just saying that it’s a popular jersey. It’s not that deep. Plus…” She rolls over so that she’s seated in front of me, tugging at my shirt. “I think you’d look really sexy in it.” I peck her mouth lightly, and she grins. “I’ll think about it,” I tell her. “Yes!” She crows, then leaps off my bed and runs out of my room. “That’s not a yes!” I call after her.
___________
Amaya Battle. That’s the name of Paige’s high school teammate on the Minnesota team. Am I a little pissed at how close they are? Yes. Am I going to let Paige onto that fact? Certainly not. Am I going to pull out her home jersey that she lent to me and put it on?
Absolutely.
I have no reason to be jealous. I know that. Paige has told me multiple times that Amaya’s like her little sister. But when Paige stops during the handshake line to give her a hug, then goes back to find her and give her a longer hug, a flame fires in the pit of my stomach. I tug off her jersey and shove it into my tote, packing my camera up as Paige goes to do another interview. One of the other media boys, Zach, looks at me curiously. “You all good?” He asks. Zach’s always flirting with me subtly - something Paige really hates. But I get the idea that maybe I can use that today.
“Yeah!” I say brightly. “You wanna go with me to the presser, though?” Zach looks surprised. “Uh, yeah, sure! You normally take Brian, though…” I laugh airily. “Well, today I want to take you,” I gush, laying a hand on his arm. I make eye contact with Paige from across the gym as she takes an interview headset off. Point: Me.
Zach follows me to the presser, where Geno, Aaliyah, and Paige are lined up, seated at a table. I take my phone and click the recording button before setting it on the table. I wink at Paige before walking away, and I turn to see her eyes still on me as the questions begin. Zach unknowingly plays directly into my plan, leaning down to whisper a joke in my ear. I look up at him and laugh, brushing a hand against his shoulder. I catch Paige’s eyes narrowing and her brow furrowing when she looks over. Point: Me.
Zach asks to see my copy of the stat sheet, and I lean closer to him, having him peek over my shoulder to read it. When I turn to him, we’re nearly face to face, and I hear Paige stutter over her answer. “The younger guys… yeah, the younger guys are really stepping up. Sorry, what was the question?” The reporters all laugh, and I shoot her a grin. She shakes her head at me ever so slightly, her nostrils flaring. I step away from Zach, smirking to myself. Checkmate.
As soon as Paige’s questions are done, she storms over to me, grabbing me by the wrist and dragging me to the visitor locker room. She pushes me against a locker, staring down at me, eyebrows raised. “You wanna explain what the hell that was?” I hum, brushing my hands over her shoulders, trailing them down her arms. “What?” I ask. I untuck her jersey as she seethes. “Is there a problem?” I ask innocently. “What kind of shit are you pulling?” She demands, wrenching my hands away from her and pinning them to the lockers above me.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I breathe. She steps closer, searching my eyes. “You know what you’re doing.” Her breath hits my face. I push my face closer. “What are you gonna do about it?” I challenge. Her hips move to pin mine against the locker. “You’re in for it tonight.” I give her a shit eating grin. “I can’t wait,” I murmur, biting my lip. Her eyes search mine again. “Fuck,” she whispers agitatedly, letting me go. I smile sweetly at her, walking out the locker room door without so much as a look back.
______________
Paige doesn’t say another word to me about any of that for the rest of the night. We go back to her place, her childhood home, and we all meet her family. After that, she shows me around her house, her old bedroom, and we hang out with her brother for a bit. It isn’t until after, until the team goes home, that Paige and I get a moment alone.
We’re in her bedroom, her seated on her bed, me looking through the drawers of her dresser. “So, you looked pretty close with Zach today,” she starts. I raise my eyebrows. “We work together,” I muse. She’s quiet. “How’s Amaya?” I ask sweetly, turning to her. She blinks. “Is that what all this is about?” She asks. I play stupid. “All what? I’m just asking how your high school teammate is? After you hugged her multiple times?”
“Bro, she’s like my little sister, I’ve told you,” Paige starts exasperatedly. “Mm-hmm. Did you tell her how much you love her, Paige? How you just miss her so, so much?” I put some whine into my voice, stalking towards Paige to stand between her legs, tugging at her hair. I know I’m being mean, but from the way her breath whistles out, she doesn’t seem to mind it. “You really want to know what Zach and I were talking about?” I ask. She grits her teeth.
I straddle her waist, attaching my lips to her neck. Her hands immediately go to my hips. “Well, he was telling me how pretty I am,” I start. Her grip tightens on my hips at that. “He was saying,” I murmur, kissing at her jaw. Her jaw goes a little slack, and I grind down against her. “How he can’t get me out of his head.” “Was he now?” She grits out. I smile against her skin. “He was telling me how badly he’s been wanting to ask me out since the beginning of the year.” Her hands trail under my shirt, gripping my torso harshly. “Is that so?” Her voice is strained.
“Mm-hmm,” I hum, kissing down her shoulder, before returning to a spot on her neck and sucking hard. I feel her breathing stutter. “That’s all he said?” She asks. “Oh, of course not,” I say, pulling back to look her in the face. I take her face in one hand, grinding down against her again. I squeeze ever so slightly, then lean in to ghost my lips over hers.
“He was saying how bad he wants to fuck me.”
“Stop.”
I move my lips to her ear. “He was saying how wet my pussy would be for him.” I moan this line out, just to piss her off.
“Baby.”
“He wanted to know how pretty I looked when I came. Does that make you mad, Paige?”
“You know it fucking does.”
I kiss her, hard, grinding down deep and slow. “You want to know what I told him, Paige?”
She’s silent, but her breathing is labored.
“I told him I had a girl, but that she’s too busy fucking other bitches to keep me happy.”
Paige flips at that, turning me around and slamming me onto the bed.
She kisses me hungrily, a hand around my throat. “You know that’s not true,” she snarls, nipping at my lips as she rucks up my shirt. “Do I?” I ask, my eyes rolling up when her mouth attaches to my nipple. “You wanna swear to me you’re not fucking other girls, Paige?” My question is cut off by a moan forcing out of my mouth when she tugs at my nipple, her lips attacking my neck.
“I swear to you that you are the only person I’m fucking,” Her words are hot against my skin as she kisses down my body. She climbs off the bed and wrenches my body to a sitting position, tugging my shirt off, before going for my sweats. “Then why haven’t you asked me to be your girlfriend?” I demand. She freezes. So do I. I hadn’t expected to say that. “That’s what this is about?” She breathes. I cross my arms over my chest subconsciously. “Yes? No. I don’t know.”
She grins stupidly. “Yo?” “Shut up.” “Oh, my God. You were jealous because I hadn’t asked you to be my girlfriend?” She demands. “Paige, stop.” “Of course I want you to be my girlfriend.” Paige kisses me softly, cupping my face. “I’m so sorry. I- fuck. I wanted to ask you this week, and I had this whole thing planned-”
My face burns. “I’m sorry. No, I’m being stupid-”
“You’re not, babe.”
“No, I am. If you were already going to ask… I’m sorry.”
“Baby…”
“Are you gonna kiss me or what?”
“Do you want to be my girlfriend?”
“Yes.”
Paige smiles at me. “That was easy.” I roll my eyes, reaching for her to pull her lips back to mine. “You’re so corny.” She kisses me back eagerly, easing me back against the bed. “Wait,” she pulls back. “Zach didn’t actually say all that shit, right?” I roll my eyes, propping myself up on my elbows. “Of course not,” I scoff. “Good,” she smiles, kissing me lazily. “No one talks dirty to my girlfriend but me.”
I laugh slightly against her mouth, flipping her onto her back and placing my legs on either side of her waist again. I run my fingers slowly through her hair, kissing her deeply. “You’re so cute when you’re jealous,” she mumbles. I move my lips to her jaw, teasing there, and she sighs. “Cute?” I ask. “Sexy, actually,” she amends. “You like making your girlfriend mad? Is that it?” I tug the hem of her shirt up, exploring her torso with my hands. She shudders at my cold fingers. “Yeah, it is,” she breathes, craning her neck up to kiss me. I grin, my mouth mere centimeters away from hers. “You need something?” She searches my eyes, challenging me. “Come on, just kiss me.” I tut. “You’re not in control here, baby,” I tell her, tightening my grip in her hair. I grind against her crotch, moaning breathily in her ear, and she groans.
“Fuck, baby. Please.” I close my eyes, breathing against her neck. “Sound so pretty when you beg,” I whisper. “I swear to God I’m gonna fuck whatever this is out of you,” she grumbles, flipping me over and tugging my shorts off. She pulls me onto her lap, a hand around my neck to pull my mouth to hers as I grind my clothed core against her abs. “What do you want tonight?” She asks against my mouth. “What do you want to do?” I gasp as the friction against my clit rushes through me. “Fuck. Anything you want.”
“Fingers,” I moan, and she shoves a hand into my panties. “Oh!” I gasp out, throwing my head back when she pinches my clit. “How many do you want to take?” Paige whispers, nipping at my lips. I balance my hands on her shoulders, riding the heel of her palm. “Three,” I say, meeting her eyes with mine. Her nostrils flare. “You’re sure?” I kiss her hard. “I said three, didn’t I?”
“Oh, fuck!” I cry out when she fills me with three of her fingers, her bottom lip between her teeth. “You’re so tight,” she tells me, fucking into me slowly. I rock up against her, riding her fingers. “Is that good for you?” She asks. I nod, covering her lips with mine as I continue grinding down. She pushes them in deeper, shoving the heel of her hand against my clit. It’s not enough. I moan in agitation, wiggling around to create more pleasure. “Can I… your mouth. Please, fuck, your mouth.” “Whatever you want,” Paige replies immediately. She eases her fingers out and lays me against the bed, pulling my panties down with her as she lowers herself at the edge.
She laps at my pussy slowly, and I throw my head back in a moan, back arching off the bed, fingers gripping at the covers. I wrap a leg around her head, bringing her closer. “Yes, yes, just like that,” I praise, and I feel her grin against my core. “That’s good?” She asks. “So good, fuckkk,” I whine. “So fucking wet,” she tells me. “Wet for Zach or wet for me?” She demands.
I buck my hips against her mouth. “You,” I bite out, eyes rolling back. “Yeah? Why are you talking to Zach, then?” Her pace slows and I wiggle against her, panting. “Was just… fucking with you,” I say, writhing for her to speed up. Her long fingers push against my hip bone, stilling me. “So you think it’s funny to make your girlfriend mad, huh?” She asks, her voice gravelly. I shake my head, clutching at the sheets as she eases her tongue in and out of me. “Were you mad, baby? Is that why?” I gasp as she sucks on my clit, whipping my head to the side.
“Answer me.” “Fuck! Yes, I was mad.” She laps at me faster and I moan, a high pitched keening sound that tears itself from my throat. “So possessive,” she sighs into me. I lace a hand into her hair, my leg still hooked around her neck. “What would you do, huh? If I was fucking another girl like this? Making her come the way I make you come?” My mind is hazy, but the sharp pain of jealousy cuts through the pleasure. I snap my eyes to hers. “I would kill her,” I pant out. She grins wickedly. “Yeah, you fuckin’ would,” she smirks.
Then she shoves two fingers inside of me and I arch off the bed. “Oh, Paige!” I whine out when her fingers curl into me. “Shh, baby. You have to be quieter.” My pussy clenches at the nickname, and Paige pulls away completely. “What the fuck?” I demand as she stands. She watches me wordlessly, pulling her sweats down, and then her boxers. “Paige!” I say harshly.
She shakes her head, fully naked in front of me now, and wraps a hand around my neck, forcing my head upward. “You think you’re coming that easily after the shit you pulled today?” She shoves my face away and I gasp for breath, my core soaked even further. I watch Paige slip into the strap and spread my legs eagerly. She tuts, grabbing my throat again. “Open,” she says. I hesitate, pursing my lips, but she grabs the back of my head and shoves the strap down my throat. I choke on it, my eyes watering, and I slap at her torso, begging her to ease up. She pulls it out, letting it hang in front of me. “Too much?” She mocks, her smirk shit-eating. I narrow my eyes at her, challenging. “Not enough,” I whisper back. I grab the base of the strap, circling my tongue at the tip, then taking it fully into my mouth. I grab her ass to ease it to the back, and she grabs my head, fucking my throat slowly. She winds a hand into my hair, pulling me off of it and forcing my head back. “You’re such a little slut, you know that?” She asks.
I bite my lip, searching her eyes. “Just for you, Paige,” I whisper back. She cocks her head. “What was that?” I smile innocently. “I said I’m a slut for you, Paige,” I repeat. “Oh, yeah?” She smirks. Fuck, that’s hot. She pushes me back, climbing onto the bed to sit against her headboard and spread her legs. “Come sit on my cock, then.”
I love it when she does this. When she acts like the strap is an extension of her, when she makes me suck on it and she fucks me senseless with it. I oblige, crawling towards her and pushing myself up onto my knees, legs on either side of her hips and my hands balanced on her shoulders. Paige grabs my ass immediately, massaging it harshly. “Come on. Fuck yourself on it.”
I lower myself onto the strap slowly, my eyes rolling back as it fills me up. “Fuck, you’re so big,” I whine. Her hand closes around my neck, watching me grind onto her. “Fuck that tight little pussy, bet you like that, huh?” I whimper, moving my lips to hers, but she holds my head in place with the hand around my neck. “Oh, yes!” I moan when she hits a spot deep inside of me. “Yes, Paige, right there,” I whimper, bouncing on her, balancing myself by bracing my hands on her hips. It pushes my tits together, and she watches them intently, licking her lips.
“Hold your hair up,” Paige orders, a hand still loosely at my neck. I move a hand from her waist to push my hair back into a loose pony. “Good fuckin’ girl. Ride me just like that, fuck.” She places two fingers on the tip of her tongue, then shoves them into her mouth, before forcing them between my lips. She lets her hand trace down my torso, eyes tracking the shiny trail her fingers leave, before her fingers find my clit. I whimper. "You need more?" She muses, her voice smug. Her hand comes up to massage my tit and I groan, my eyes rolling back. “I’m gonna come,” I whimper, and she pinches my nipple, her eyes dark with desire. I ride her faster, grinding harder, bouncing up and down on the strap quicker. My climax approaches, but I feel it evading me. “Fuck, I can’t. Paige… oh, God. I can’t,” I try to get out. The hand at my neck goes to my face, brushing my cheek. “Use your words, baby,” she coos, smacking my ass. “Please, Paige," I beg, trying desperately to reach that spot myself, feeling frustration ebb at me when I can't.
Paige grins at me wickedly. "What? Fucked the attitude outta you?" I glare at her, panting. She shakes her head and flips us over, pulling out of me and I whine. Roughly, she loops an arm around my torso, dragging me to all fours. Then she smacks my ass. Hard. I cry out into my hand, collapsing onto my elbows. I gasp as she hits me again, my ass stinging from the impact. "Paige," I whine.
"You need something?" I can practically hear the smirk in her voice, and my legs shake when the tip of her strap teases my entrance. "Fuck, you want it so bad, don't you?" She groans, pushing in ever so slightly. I gasp, clutching at the sheets. "Yes," I moan.
"What, baby? What do you want?"
"Just... please, Paige."
"Use your words."
"I am."
"Who's fucking you?"
I grit my teeth, my pride and my desire for her to fuck me so hard I can't walk tomorrow fighting against each other. "You, Paige."
She hums, squeezing my ass cheeks, sliding into my entrance again. "And whose cock you want?" She pushes in deeper, then pulls out.
"Yours."
"Nobody else's?" There's bite to her tone.
"Just yours," I groan, shoving my head into her sheets, wanting to kill her.
She smacks my ass again, hard, and I lurch forward, my back arching.
"Beg for it then," she snarls.
"Oh, my God. Okay! Please, please fuck me, Paige, please," I just about sob, taking the sheets in betwen my teeth in agitation.
"All you had to do was ask," Paige tuts.
She flips me over onto my back, hand squeezing my neck harder, choking me, and drives into me hard. “Shit!” I whine out. She grabs my hip with one hand and fucks me hard, hard enough that my head smacks against the headboard, hard enough that my face becomes wet with tears. She hits a spot so deep inside me that I see stars, and her free hand circles my clit harshly. “Gonna come? You gonna fucking come on my cock?” She demands.
“Paige! Paige! Paige!” I scream out against my hand, my orgasm crashing through me, Paige’s hips still snapping against mine as she fucks me through it relentlessly. My hands claw at the sheets, claw at her back, surely leaving scratch marks, and she grinds her hips against mine slowly, working me through my climax. “Fuck,” Paige whispers. My body is limp, but satisfied, and I pull her down to me to kiss her lazily. “You better tell Zach as soon as we get back to Storrs,” she murmurs against my mouth. I groan, letting her slip her tongue into my mouth. “Tell him what?” I mumble.
I feel her smirk. “Tell him your girlfriend made you come so hard you forgot his name.”
#paige bueckers#paige bueckers fic#wcbb#fic#uconn wbb#✂️ anon#ncaaw#paige bueckers x reader#fic talk
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not to sound like twitter nba fans BUT THAT WAS SOFT THESE REFS ARE SOFT
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i am at peace.
#wbb#wcbb#ap all america team#paige bueckers#caitlin clark#cameron brink#juju watkins#hannah hidalgo#march madness#ncaaw
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Oh btw I’m caught up on women’s basketball and ready as hell for tonight’s games!! Feel free to send basketball thoughts!
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Alex Abad-Santos at Vox:
On Sunday, April 2, Louisiana State University defeated the University of Iowa and won the NCAA women’s college basketball national championship — an accomplishment that should be one of the biggest women’s sports stories of the year. But all anyone can talk about is what happened in the last few seconds.
In those waning moments, LSU star power forward Angel Reese pointed at her ring finger and waved her own hand in front her face, in the direction of Caitlin Clark, the best player on Iowa’s team. To those familiar with hand gestures in basketball, this was Reese’s way of telling Clark that her team won — that LSU would be getting that championship ring — and that Reese herself was unguardable. To those specifically familiar with Clark and women’s college basketball this season, the hand wave is a call back to Clark’s own dismissal of her previous opponents.
Like any good feud, the more backstory you know, the juicier it gets. As a supporter of women’s rights, this was also the rare moment when you could simultaneously support women’s wrongs.
But some didn’t see Reese’s action as deliciously scandalous, and her actions didn’t happen in a bubble. Her taunt ignited criticisms from haters about her lack of “class” and how Reese, who is Black, should have conducted herself in the face of imminent victory. Her detractors would’ve liked to see her win quietly and politely, without the theatrics. However, this outpouring of concern about how women athletes should behave when they win wasn’t nearly as much of an issue when Clark, who is white, was steamrolling, trash talking, and mocking the competition. Curious!
The tournament was the Caitlin Clark show until Angel Reese and LSU showed up
Historically, the women’s NCAA basketball tournament has been eclipsed by the men’s tournament in terms of coverage, enthusiasm, and, famously, funding and facilities. But this year’s chapter of March Madness included a perfect storm of storylines and events that gave the women’s tournament a spark: a men’s tournament littered with upsets of “power five” schools, an undefeated women’s team in the form of the University of South Carolina, an upstart Louisiana State University team led by eccentric coach Kim Mulkey, and the superstardom of Clark, an electric guard from the University of Iowa.
Clark, a junior, averaged 27.8 points per game, 7.1 rebounds per game, and 8.6 assists per game while shooting at a 47.3 percent clip through the 2022-2023 season. If you don’t follow basketball, those are extremely good numbers. The bigger the numbers in those categories, the better. Further, Clark did all this while leading her team to a top-10 ranking and a 2-seed in the NCAA tournament — her performance and statistics won her the AP Player of the Year honors prior to the national championship.
While she was breathtaking all year, Clark shined in the tournament — women’s college basketball’s biggest stage — making history as the leading point scorer, recording a triple-double, and hanging up 40-point outings on team after team. In the Final Four game against undefeated and reigning champion South Carolina, Clark’s 41 points and eight assists helped propel her underdog Hawkeyes to victory.
At the same time, Clark’s confidence could verge on cockiness. Against Louisville, a team known for being physical and playing hounding defense, Clark lit the Cardinals up for 40 points and gestured “you can’t see me.” In the aforementioned game against South Carolina, she waved off a player at the three-point line, signaling that they weren’t a threat. When she hits a “logo” three — nailing a basket from inside Michigan’s giant mid-court M, for example — she knows that’s going into the game’s highlight reel.
This set the stage for Sunday’s national championship game: In the biggest game of the year on the biggest stage of the year, the best player in women’s college basketball — who knows she’s the best player in women’s college basketball — was a game away from what would be the perfect end to her fantastic year. Iowa had just beaten South Carolina which was, on paper, a better team than LSU.
But while the transitive properties of wins and losses can give you a picture of how a game may play out, it’s what happens on the court that matters.
As the game unfolded, LSU played the best basketball of their year. Reese, LSU’s star forward, was gobbling up rebounds left and right, turning misses into points. LSU’s bench also played stellar, hitting three after three. Coupled with some shoddy officiating (an unfortunate constant in women’s college basketball) and a more egregious lack of defense, Clark and Iowa were blown out 102-85.
In the closing seconds, Reese followed Clark around and pointed at her ring finger. Championship games, like weddings and senior years in high school, are punctuated by rings. Reese’s pointing was to indicate that she was getting one of these rings and Clark had zero. Reese also mimicked Clark’s “can’t see me” gesture against Louisville, giving the superstar guard a taste of her own taunting.
After a season of Clark’s goading, the firestorm reaction to Reese’s gestures has eclipsed the game and LSU’s win itself.
[...]
But the argument of “if this situation were completely different, things would be different” sort of falls apart when you consider that Reese’s detractors were quiet when Clark was doing the taunting. When Clark was gesturing that an entire team of Louisville Cardinals couldn’t guard her, no one was calling her a “classless piece of shit.” Actually, she was praised — ESPN ran an entire segment on Clark calling her “the queen of the clap backs” complete with crown emoji.
Olbermann and Portnoy’s reactions to Reese, and the reactions to their reactions — basketball hall of famer Shaquille O’Neal tweeted Olbermann to “shut your dumb ass up leave angel reese alone” — reflect a bigger pattern of the impossible double standard that Black athletes are held to and how sports media reinforces that standard over and over.
This isn’t a new phenomenon. Reese is just the latest frustrating example.
From Angel Reese to Serena Williams to Simone Biles to multiple instances in the NFL and NBA, Black athletes have not only had to win on the court but do so in a manner that audiences — but in particular grown (white) men like Olbermann and Portnoy — determine respectable. They can’t be too confident or they’ll be seen as arrogant. They can’t be too passionate or they’ll be deemed angry. They can’t talk about their mental health without having their character called into question. Yet, when athletes like Clark or Larry Bird or Novak Djokovic or Tom Brady flash the same behavior, it’s a revered part of their legacy or a passionate commitment to the game.
Female athletes like Reese and Clark are also battling an added, implicit layer of sexism. Some — grown men especially — believe there’s no room for trash talk in women’s sports because women are perceived to be better, gentler, and above the fray. Meanwhile, trash talking and vitriol are seen as an established part of men’s sports and its most compelling rivalries. This stripe of benevolent sexism undercuts competitors like Clark and Reese who are conducting themselves with more dignity and toughness than how they’re being talked about.
Why was Iowa's Caitlin Clark praised for taunting, while LSU's Angel Reese was trashed for doing essentially the same thing Clark was doing? I got a two-word answer for it: white privilege.
The fact that Clark is a White woman and Reese is a Black woman played to those perceptions.
#2023 Women's March Madness Tournament#Women's March Madness Tournament#NCAAW#Women's College Basketball#College Basketball#Iowa Hawkeyes#LSU Tigers#Caitlin Clark#Angel Reese#White Privilege#Racism#Sexism
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