caitified

[caitified]

crying ILY

also new caitlin book coming on wattpad ft the craziest situation ship ever

[caitified]

also new caitlin book coming on wattpad ft the craziest situation ship ever

[caitified]

i have a fic idea i really want to do that would like showcase a relationship over the years, and it’s with a trope that you guys always seem to request. idk who to do it for, so let me know. if people like the first one i could do it for someone else too 🫂

any wbb player, just comment or something lmk

[caitified]

hi can you write a sonia x reader about how sonia is nervous about participating in the all star 3 point

nerves

sonia citron x reader

first soni fic kinda scared sorry if we hate it !

you’re sitting on the floor of the hotel room, legs stretched out in front of you, scrolling aimlessly on your phone while sonia paces in front of the bed. she’s already in her warmup gear, hoodie half-zipped, hair pulled back tight, but she keeps tugging the sleeves over her hands like the fabric’s gonna anchor her.

she’s been quiet since breakfast. not in the brooding, shut-you-out kind of way, just… quieter than usual. she had her head on your shoulder in the car to the arena for practice earlier, barely looking up when you tried to distract her with dumb memes. now, she’s chewing on her lip, staring at the carpet like it’s got the answers.

“you’re gonna wear a hole in the floor,” you say, leaning back on your palms.

she glances at you, a quick flicker of a smile, but it doesn’t stick. “i’m fine.”

“you’re not fine,” you reply, tilting your head. “you’re walking like you’re about to plead your case to the supreme court.”

she stops pacing and sits at the edge of the bed, elbows on her knees, hands clasped together so tight her knuckles go pale. “i just—” she lets out this sharp exhale, like she’s been holding it in all morning. “i’m the only rookie. everyone else is, like, established. they’ve been in all-star weekend before. they’re… names.”

“you’re a name,” you remind her.

she laughs, but it’s short and humorless. “not like that.”

you push yourself up, crossing the room to stand in front of her. “you think they put you in this for fun? like, just to fill a spot?”

she looks up at you, eyes glassy but stubborn. “maybe a little. rookie filler.”

you crouch so you’re eye-level, hands resting on her knees. “sonia citron, i swear to god, if you don’t stop talking like that…” you trail off, shaking your head with a soft grin. “you earned this. you’ve been shooting lights out all season. they saw it. everybody saw it. you’re here because you’re one of the best.”

her jaw tightens like she wants to argue, but she doesn’t. instead, her hands slide from her lap to your shoulders, holding on like she needs something solid.

“what if i choke?” she asks quietly.

you shrug, still smiling. “then you choke. and guess what? i’ll still be in the stands yelling for you like you just won the championship. i’ll still be here when you come back to the hotel tonight. i’m not going anywhere.”

she breathes out slowly, her shoulders dropping just a little. “you always know what to say.”

“yeah, it’s a skill,” you tease, leaning in until your forehead rests against hers. “plus, i really like kissing you when you’re nervous.”

she huffs out a laugh, finally a real one, and leans the rest of the way in. the kiss is soft, a little hesitant at first, like she’s still holding onto some of that tension, but when you cup her face, she melts into it.

when you pull back, she’s smiling for real this time. “okay,” she says, almost like she’s convincing herself. “okay. i can do this.”

you stand, offering her your hand. “you can more than do this. you’re gonna kill it. and afterwards, we’re getting room service and i’m ordering dessert for you even if you say you’re not hungry.”

she takes your hand, letting you pull her up. “deal.”

…

by the time she finally finds you in the hallway outside the locker room, she’s still got the little participant medal swinging against her chest, hair messy from where she’d ripped her headband off. she’s not even pretending to be cool about it—her eyes are bright, her cheeks flushed, and she’s talking before you can even say anything.

“okay, so, the last rack? i thought i was done for, but then i hit three in a row and i swear i could hear you screaming from the other side of the arena—”

“because i was,” you laugh, wrapping your arms around her waist before she can pace right past you.

she lets you pull her in, still buzzing. “i didn’t win, but—god, it was so much fun. like, actually fun. i can’t even remember the last time i wasn’t overthinking every shot i took.”

you smile against her shoulder. “you looked happy. like, actual smile-on-your-face happy the whole time.”

she pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes softening. “i was. and every time i looked up, you were just—” she shakes her head, grinning. “you were standing up, waving your arms like a crazy person.”

“had to make sure you could see me,” you say, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

she laughs, leaning into your touch. “mission accomplished.”

you start walking with her toward the exit, your hand sliding into hers. she keeps replaying little moments out loud—how the lights felt, how weirdly heavy the balls were, the way one of the vets gave her a wink before they started. she’s not holding anything back, not playing it cool like she usually does after games, and you love it.

“i think this is the most words you’ve said to me after a game since we met,” you tease as you push the door open for her.

she shoots you a mock glare, but she’s still smiling. “yeah, well, maybe you’re a good luck charm.”

“for you to lose?” you joke, and she shoves your shoulder gently.

“for me to actually enjoy it,” she says, more serious this time.

outside, the night air is cold, but she doesn’t let go of your hand. “thank you for being here,” she says quietly, and it’s so unlike her—no sarcasm, no playful jab—that you know she means it completely.

“always,” you reply, giving her fingers a squeeze. “you know that.”

[caitified]

hey girl.. so about the soni fic 😳🤭

posted!! but more requests for her pls or if people want headcannons that’s fun

[caitified]

still waiting on that soni fic ‼️

just posted a few

[caitified]

could you write for sonia x reader where sonia is so not nonchalant when it comes to her partner like down bad and doing thoughtful things for them and it shocks everyone how different she acts when they’re around ? or something like that ! it’s okay if not :)

nonchalant

sonia citron x reader

this kinda sucks but more requests for sonia appreciated

people always describe sonia as chill.

she’s the girl who doesn’t really react to trash talk, the one who keeps her face blank when the refs make a bad call, the one who never looks too hyped or too crushed after games. her teammates joke she has “mildly interested” as a default setting.

except—apparently—that’s not her default at all. not when it comes to you.

you didn’t really notice it at first, but everyone else did. the first time you came to a practice, she was suddenly not just “interested,” she was borderline performing for you—diving for loose balls, taking shots she’d normally pass up, glancing at you after every make like she needed to check if you’d seen it.

when practice ended, instead of her usual slow stroll to the locker room, she practically jogged over, grabbed your hand without hesitation, and introduced you to everyone like you were royalty.

“this is them,” she said, smiling so big it made your chest warm. “my partner.”

the reactions were subtle—wide eyes, exchanged glances, the kind of silent “woah” you can hear even without words.

and it didn’t stop there.

sonia, who never lingers after events, started sticking around just to walk you to your car. she’d bring you random little things she saw during the day—a pastry you mentioned liking once, a hoodie she swore you’d look cute in, a pack of your favorite gum.

once, during a road trip, she mailed you a handwritten note because “texts don’t feel the same.” she even tucked a polaroid of her hotel view inside.

everyone noticed.

on the team flight, one of the vets leaned over to you and whispered, “she’s never like this with anyone. what did you do to her?”

you just shrugged, but the truth is, you don’t do anything except be there.

the funniest part is watching how she’s not even trying to hide it. she’ll kiss you on the cheek mid-conversation with her coach, drape her arm around you in front of reporters, or text you between drills. it’s not performative—it’s just her, but only with you.

at a game last week, you were sitting courtside, and after she hit a clutch three, she didn’t high-five the nearest teammate. she pointed right at you, grinning.

later, someone posted a clip of it online, and the comments were full of people saying they’d never seen her smile like that in a game before.

and when you teased her about it in private, she didn’t even deny it.

“of course i’m different with you,” she said, like it was obvious. “you’re my person.”

and honestly? she says it so matter-of-fact that you almost forget the rest of the world’s still catching up to the idea of sonia citron—cool, collected sonia—being so completely, hopelessly gone for someone.

[caitified]

you have me under a choke hold

love ya

[caitified]

um hi this is awkward but are we getting the soni fic 😖💔

ok soni girls i’m cominggggg

i’m the worst ik i need to be reminded

[caitified]

for all my people asking about crossfire, i had an idea for where the plot was going and i lowkey lost the note where i planned it out.. so give me a few days to lock in and figure out where i wanna go.

very appreciative for all the love on the story!! ten thousand reads is crazy.

if anyone has any ideas for what direction they would like it to go in next, feel free to let me know.

[caitified]

Holding you to your word and waiting for the soni fic 🫵🏽

writing as we speak she has me under a chokehold but plz remind me

[caitified]

Hi I'm just checking if you recieved my request

added to the list!

[caitified]

[caitified]

Would you write for Sarah Strong?🙏🏼🙏🏼

sure! feel free to request

[caitified]

requests for her please and thanks 🫶

[caitified]

going laser tagging w fever and cait cornering you bc her competitive ass can’t lose even to her beautiful gf 😔 kissing her and leaving her standing there pouting bc wdym your team won and you didn’t actually want to make out w her ☹️☹️

laser tag

caitlin clark x reader

notes: cute!! more requests pls

it’s someone’s birthday. or maybe just a random off-day where everyone’s stir crazy from too many practices and not enough wins. doesn’t matter. what matters is that you’re in the lobby of a dark-ass laser tag place, surrounded by way too many professional athletes trying to fit into vests clearly made for children. kelsey mitchell is already trash-talking like you’re about to fight to the death. and caitlin clark—your girlfriend, unfortunately—looks like she’s about to coach the nba finals.

“okay so i’ve been watching gameplay on tiktok and—”

you cut her off, tugging at the vest they strapped you into way too tight. “babe. it’s literally laser tag.”

she squints at you. like squints. “exactly. and you’re on the other team.”

“yeah,” you say. “so maybe don’t cheat?”

she snorts. “i don’t need to cheat. i just need to win.”

you roll your eyes and kiss her quickly, like half to throw her off and half because she looks really hot when she’s focused. like sharp-eyed, slightly too tall, bounce-in-her-step hot. her hair’s pulled back in a braid and she’s got that little crease in her brow, the one she gets when she’s plotting. she leans in like she wants to kiss you longer but the game buzzer goes off and everyone starts screaming like it’s war.

you bolt.

the arena is pitch black and lit up by neon blues and reds and it smells like static electricity and sweat. you duck behind a wall and get your first shot in—a direct hit on lexie hull. she groans dramatically and drops to the ground, overly committed to the bit.

you’re good. like, surprisingly good. maybe it’s the adrenaline or maybe it’s the fact that if you lose, you know caitlin will never let it go. you sprint up ramps and hide behind barrels and hit enough targets that your vest is blinking with how many people are trying to shoot you back.

and then.

you feel it. that little zap against your back.

you whirl around and there she is.

caitlin. smiling like a villain. crouched slightly, one knee bent like she’s ready to sprint again. her vest glows red and her cheeks are flushed and she is the most annoying beautiful person alive.

“got you,” she whispers.

you squint. “we’ll see who wins.”

she takes a step forward and you take one back. she takes another, and you dodge behind a wall, heart racing.

“oh, you’re not gonna hide from me,” she calls, laughing low. “you’re mine.”

you make the mistake of peeking your head out and she’s right there, cornering you like some 6’0 laser tag demon. she slams her hand against the wall beside your head and leans in with that cocky smirk. “any last words?”

you stare at her. “you’re such a menace.”

“say it again,” she teases. “but slower.”

you roll your eyes, lean in like you’re about to surrender—and kiss her. right on the mouth. it shuts her up for a second. just enough. you can feel the way she melts into it, arms loosening a little, her laser gun dropping slightly.

and then you break the kiss, step back with a satisfied smile, and bolt.

“hey—” she calls, breathless and still slightly stunned. “hey!”

you hear her footsteps chasing after you but the game ends with another buzzer and someone screaming “WE WON!” and the second you check the scoreboard, your team is on top.

caitlin trudges out of the arena a second later, fake-pouting with her vest half-unclipped.

“you tricked me,” she mumbles.

you grin and hand her a bottle of water. “i didn’t trick you. i seduced you. learn the difference.”

she narrows her eyes at you, cheeks still pink. “you’re telling me that whole thing was fake? the kiss? the little cornered moment?”

you shrug. “did you want it to be fake?”

“…no,” she grumbles.

you lean up and kiss her again, soft and quick. “good. but also—i still won. and you were trying to cheat.”

“it wasn’t cheating,” she defends. “it was strategy.”

“your strategy was making out with me until i forgot i was playing a game?”

she nods, fully serious. “it almost worked.”

you just laugh, looping your arm through hers as everyone piles out of the arena, all sweat and neon and lingering adrenaline. caitlin still looks like she’s plotting something, probably a rematch, probably another elaborate plan to make you forget the rules of whatever game you’re playing. but for now, she’s pouting and clinging to you and muttering about how unfair it is that her girlfriend is hotter and better at laser tag.

you kiss her again, just because you can.

she lets you.

this time, she doesn’t chase after you when you walk away.

but she will. you know she will.

[caitified]

You always lieeeeeee

i’m like papa i’m sorrryyyyyyyyyyy not a lie this time love ya back tn