#studbudz

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.

marine and paige both saying zendaya…right right 🤨